


Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses

by Judyku



Category: Smallville
Genre: AU, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2010-12-09
Updated: 2011-03-14
Packaged: 2017-10-13 14:23:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 60,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/138345
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Judyku/pseuds/Judyku





	1. 1

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Rating: R for language used in some chapters.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Chlollie on LJ, FF.net, and whever else I choose to post it!  
Notes: I came up with the idea over sausages and I may be writing it, but a lot of folk have helped. Al, Strom, Gen, and Solo to name but a few. You know who you are :-D

"You want us to _what_?" Oliver Queen asked once he wiped his mouth of coughed up beer.

"Come on, guys," Bart Allen pleaded, hands expression sheer desperation. "Three hundred bucks for two minutes of monkey spanking? It's easy money."

Arthur Curry's eyebrows touched his hairline as he shared a look with Oliver. "Two minutes?"

The younger man's face reddened somewhat and he tried to save some dignity. "Did I say two? I meant ten..."

"Sure you did," Oliver took a drink to hide his smirk. "But seriously, dude. Sperm donating?"

"Part-time jobs take time," Bart paused for effect. "Time that I don't have, cos of classes an all..." Yeah, he thought, play on the struggling student. That oughta do it.

His buddies both rolled their eyes. "You have enough time to come out for beer," Arthur pointed out.

"Especially when someone else is paying," Oliver joined in. Not that he minded shouting his guys to a few beers. He had money and they didn't, and it was as simple as that.

"If I got three hundred bucks, I could shout you both," Bart nodded and turned to the one most likely to cave first. "A.C, three hundred could buy you that surfboard you've been after and you'd have money left over to sponsor a whale."

Arthur paused. That board was pretty sweet and he could use an extra bit of cash...

"Don't do it, man!" Oliver's eyes widened as he realised A.C was about start thinking of the money. "Seriously, dude, block your ears. It's sperm donating."

"Three hundred bucks..." Bart cajoled. "Surfboard with the naked chicks... Three hundred bucks... Surfboard with the naked chicks..."

"You'd be shooting your jizz into a cup for that three hundred bucks and a surfboard with..." Ollie thought about it for a moment. "Naked chicks? Why the hell would you want to buy a surfboard with naked chicks? You see em for free on the beach."

All three stopped as the image of the nudey beach ten minutes outside of Star City.

Arthur was the first to respond. "I raise my bottle to that."

Oliver shook his head to free it from naked chicks. "Here, here," and clinked beer bottles with his buddy. "Speaking of naked chicks... Shoulda seen the piece of ass in Rockshots last night."

"Sweet?" Bart asked while thinking of ways to manipulate.

"Shakin, dude, shakin," he replied and made a triangle with his fingers.

Arthur nodded. "Nice. Get her name?"

Oliver smirked. "I got her home."

Figuring this was a tactic designed to throw him off, the younger of the three spoke up. "Guys, please! Spare a thought for the dude with no job or money or naked chicks with a shakin piece of ass."

His buddies sighed, knowing that no matter what they did or said, Bart was not gonna let this go without a fight. Plus, the little dude did have a point.

Poor guy was working his ass off to keep his scholorship at school, which was admirable considering his family background. Oliver would have offered, but Bart would think it was charity. A few beers and dinners or take-out wasn't exactly the same thing as shelling out tuition fees and book prices.

"I could get you a Saturday job at the aquarium," Arthur offered. "It wouldn't be much, but it'd still be something."

Despite what he was trying to pull, Bart shot his pal a look of gratitude. "Thanks, dude," and both displayed brotherhood with a secret handshake. "But I kinda need the cash now."

Oliver couldn't help himself. "You just want free porno mags."

"Yeah, cos I really need help in getting off." Hell, he was a freaking pro at jacking off.

"Dude," Arthur put a hand on his friend's shoulder. "You need all the help you can get."

Oliver carefully studied the younger man. "Still not had sex yet, huh?"

"Look at me, man!" Bart half yelled. "I'm a twenty-three year old who looks ten. I still get I.D'd!"

Arthur and Ollie had to laugh because it was the truth. Bart Allen did look like a little kid and most of the chicks they all knew loved him to pieces. They would flock around him, coo and aww over the 'cute one,' but when it came to romance? He lucked out.

"You'll grow up one day, Bart," Oliver sniggered at the death glare that came his way. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to give the guy a break and be a buddy. "So, this donating thing..."

Bart inwardly grinned. Oh yeah, they were so wrapped around his pinkie. They just needed that little extra push... He sighed and looked at the tabletop. "Think I'll ever grow up enough to lose it?"

"Still?" Arthur asked, wide eyed. Yeah, he knew the little dude never had a girlfriend, but to be a virgin at 23? That was harsh.

His buddy nodded and looked up, "All they wanna do is tuck me into bed and bring me milk and cookies."

Oliver winced, "Vicki said that, didn't she?"

"And Connie," Bart sighed. "Maggie said she wanted to put me in her back pocket."

This time it was Arthur who winced. "Dude, that's..."

"I know, man. I know."

Oliver sighed. "This calls for another round. Fellas?"

Arthur peered at his half empty bottle. "You get the beers, I'll get the Nachos?"

Bart only managed to contain the excited hell yeah purely because this was his chance. He knew Ollie and Arthur felt sorry for his situation, both family wise and lady wise, and he knew they talked about it often and how they could help without him knowing. If they went to the bar together, they'd talk themselves into it, and he wouldn't have to do a thing.

"I'll get em," he offered and stood.

"No, dude," Ollie said and pushed his buddy back down. "Beer's mine, A.C?"

Arthur downed the rest of his beer before rising. "Just giving him a hand."

Bart nodded his thanks and watched his pals head towards the bar, all the while doing a dance of joy in his head.

"Three hundred bucks here I come!"

 **XOXOXO**

"What?" Chloe Sullivan asked when she got no response from either her father or her cousin.

Lois Lane quietly placed her fork on her plate and seriously stared at her cousin, while Gabe Sullivan was quite happy to keep quiet while his neice did the questioning.

" _What_?" Lois asked in a loud voice that drew attention from some of the other diners.

"Do you mind?" Chloe hissed. "People are looking!"

"They have a right to look!" Lois half snapped. "You're insane, Chlo!"

"No, I'm not. The tests proved it." Seeing her sarcasm was not appreciated, Chloe sighed. "Look, we all know that I can't stand to date..."

"Yeah, yeah," Lois rolled her eyes. "Why is that? I mean, you always say that you can't stand to date, but you never say _why_ , so... Why is it you can't stand to date?"

"Because..."

"Because what, Chlo? One bad experience in high school and you're forever burned?"

"No, Lois! Because men are so... so..."

Gabe arched a single eyebrow. "So what, Chloe?"

Everything she ever felt about men came bubbling out and she couldn't stop it. "Clingy! They're clingy and needy and attention seeking."

"And babies just pop out, fully grown and ready to start college?"

Chloe glared at her cousin, but didn't get a chance to respond as her dad spoke up. "Clingy?"

She waved it away. "You know what I mean!"

It was rare he got to turn the tables on his smart daughter, so whenever the opportunity arose, he took advantage of it. "No, I really don't. Why don't you explain it to me."

Chloe looked at the equally expectant looks on the faces of her dad and cousin. "You know... Clingy! You know I take a notebook everywhere I go in case I get a good line or a plotline and they don't seem to get the fact that my brain isn't a hard drive. I can't just click save and open it again later. It's not my fault if I have to write when I'm on a date."

"You work on a date?" Lois quizzed. "You seriously take out a notebook and write? On a restaurant table, in the middle of a _date_?"

"Did you not hear me when I said my brain is not a hard drive?"

"I heard you, I just can't believe you work on a date."

"What else do you expect?" Chloe snapped, eyes flashing with rising anger. "It's okay for you. You can take time off from your job, I can't. Being a writer is a 24/7 job, Lois. I can't just push it aside or turn my head off for a few hours."

Seeing an argument about to start, Gabe stepped in with a logic that even his daughter couldn't deny. "If being a writer is a 24/7 job, then what will happen when your baby needs to be fed and changed or looked after?"

When she heard her father, she was ready to defend herself again, but he had a good point. "It'll be hard, daddy," she said. "I'm not denying that, but a baby will be at home with me while I work and when I take it for walks, it won't complain if I take a couple of notes."

"Take it for walks," Lois was amazed at how calm she sounded. "It's not a damn dog!" Okay, so calm wasn't what she felt.

"That isn't what I meant and you know it." Anger at her cousin's outrage was really beginning to get on her nerves. Chloe looked at Lois, really looked, and asked one simple question. "What's honestly bothering you about this, Lois? I mean, it's my decision and I've thought about it for a while now, but it seems to be having a profound effect on you."

"What's honestly bothering me is the fact that my neice or nephew could be born in a freaking test tube is what. Why can't you go out, get a guy drunk, and do it the normal way?"

"You're embarrassed?" Chloe seethed. "It'll be _my_ baby and _you're_ embarrassed by how it's conceived?" She didn't give her cousin the courtesy of replying. "As for your so-called normal way. You want me to go out and have sex with a guy who could have any STD just so I can have a baby?"

Lois went to reply, but again was cut off. "What if I caught something that made me infertile? Or something that could affect the baby? Besides, what kinda guy would have unprotected sex? Other than a one that doesn't care, of course, and if he does care, then drama might unfold and you know how I feel about drama."

Great for a story, but not great for real life.

Gabe sat back in his chair and listened as the conversation went back and forth. He knew his daughter and from the looks of things, she'd given a lot of thought to this. When he heard his neice raise her voice a little more, he intervened. "Chloe, I know you don't like dating, but what if you found a nice man and talked to him about your work. He might understand."

Thankful he'd interrupted before she tore her cousin to pieces, Chloe gave him a smile of gratitude. "I did, daddy, and you remember Kyle? He was a nice, sweet, decent guy who understood... For all of five months before deciding I spent too much time on my laptop at a weekend."

Gabe had to think for a moment before he remembered who she was on about and when he did, he only just managed to keep from cringing. Sure, the guy was decent enough, but he had a Colgate smile and over-gelled hair.

Thank heaven his daughter had the good sense to not release a spawn of _that_ on the Earth.

Sick of them both, Chloe decided that this baby was going to happen and it was going to happen her way. After all, it was her body and she had a say in what did or didn't happen to it. "Daddy, Lois? I'm doing this whatever you two think about it. I've spoke to the people I need too and all I needed is to not be judged for once in my life."

At this, Lois folded her arms and looked away, an expression of deep thought on her face. Gabe always knew that when his little girl truly wanted something, she went about it the same way she did a plot. She covered all the basics, researched, thought, double thought, and triple thought before weighing the pros and cons.

Still, he had to defend both himself and his neice. "We're not judging you, sweetheart," Gabe said honestly. "We're just trying to offer some different options, but if this is what you want, then I'll stand by your decision. We _both_ will."

Chloe looked to her cousin. "Lois?"

Lois blew out a sigh as she turned to face her favourite cousin. "I don't agree with how you're going about it, but I've got your back."

"I know it's a little out there, Lo, but thank you."

"So..." Lois broached what had to be the most important bit of having a baby. "You have any names?" She asked and found herself smacked in the face by a rolled up napkin. Her cousin was such a pain.

"Let's see if it works first," Chloe said through a laugh. "But for a girl, I was thinking..."

"Lois?!"

Chloe rolled her eyes at her cousin's predictable response. "I was thinking of Ellie or Molly for a girl and Joey or Jonas for a boy."

Lois paused for a moment. "You could have Lewis as a middle name."

"You mean like Jonas Lewis?" Chloe asked with a mental smirk. She knew her cousin was going to do this. "Or Joey Lewis?"

Her cousin paused again. "Never mind," Lois replied after realising what those names sounded like. No neice or nephew of hers was gonna share a name with a boxer.

Chloe smiled as she thought that this time next week, she could be pregnant.


	2. 2

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Rating: R for language used in some chapters.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Chlollie on LJ, FF.net, and whever else I choose to post it!  
Notes: I came up with the idea over sausages and I may be writing it, but a lot of folk have helped. Al, Strom, Gen, and Solo to name but a few. You know who you are :-D

"Whoa..." her cousin's whisper was full of awe as she stared down at what had to be the Mount. Everest of information. "You've read all this?"

"Yep!" Chloe happily stated as she wondered what she wanted from her donor. Yes, it seemed kind of seedy, almost like she was creating a designer baby, but hell. She could pick what she wanted from a man and they'd give it to her.

She blew out a breath. Although she knew a lot of thought was needed in deciding to use a donor, now that it was time to actually put those decisions down, it was more daunting than she realised.

What background? Religion? Ethnic and cultural background? Donor's appearance?

She wanted her baby to look a little like her, but not so much that the baby looked like a clone. "Okay, blonde hair is a definite."

Lois nodded, still staring through wide eyes at the papers and booklets and leaflets. "Because appearance is very important."

Chloe bit back her original response. Her cousin was just looking out for her and that was something she was grateful for. "The bank does all the health checks for illnesses and STD's, and I've already gone through the counselling sessions. I just need to decide what I from some little soldiers."

"A uniform?"

Both women looked at each and cackled, remembering many a moment where they'd admired General Lane's sqaud.

"What were we like?" Lois asked as she wiped her eyes.

"Before or after camera phones were invented?" Chloe laughed and shook her head. "I'm surprised we weren't arrested for sexual harrassment and common indecency."

"You know..." her cousin spoke slowly. "If you want some little soldiers, I hear Major Edwards is free and single. He's such a manwhore that I'm sure he wouldn't mind."

Chloe paused long enough to sigh. _She's just trying to help, she's just trying to help_. "Then there's the possibility of him wanting in on the raising of my child and how do you know he's a manwhore?"

Lois purposely continued to stare at the leaflets. "I caught him with the colonel's daughter."

"Let me get this straight..." her cousin spoke slowly. "You want me to consider having a baby with a manwhore you caught having an affair with the colonel's daughter?"

A sheepish smile was turned her way and Chloe rolled her eyes. Lois was Lois and there was no force on Earth that would ever change her. "It was worth a shot," she said as an apology. "Sperm donor it is and ooh! You have to choose tall, dark, and handsome. If you're gonna have a boy, then you may as well give him a head start in life."

"And if it's a girl?"

Lois shrugged and her sheepish grined turned saucy. "Then she'll have grow up to have a PhD and sultry looks. Don't knock it!" She chucked a booklet at her cousin. "Sultry looks and PhD snagged Colin Firth."

Chloe was truly affronted. "Only because he hadn't met me."

"Of course, sweetie. We all know he'd fall hopelessly in love with you the second he laid eyes on you."

The younger woman visibly swooned. "Ahh," she fanned herself. "Those big, beautiful brown eyes on me, giving me The Look... Ooh! Brown eyes!"

Lois jaw dropped. "Please don't tell me you're gonna ask for brown eyes because of Colin, cos that's just sad."

Chloe merely smiled. "Blonde hair, brown eyes? How cute would that little girl be?" Then she was off in a land where she was pushing her gorgeous brown eyed, blonde hair little baby on the swings.

"Colin Firth," Lois muttered, slightly horrified at what her big mouth had done. "If you're telepathic in anyway, please accept my sincere apologies."

 **XOXOXO**

Bart just... Couldn't.

The cup and the movies and magazines terrified him and he honestly couldn't do it. Everytime his hand got near his junk, it got clammy.

He was great at it home.

No.

More than great, so why couldn't he do it here?

Maybe it was the sterility of it all? Maybe it was the fact everyone knew what he was doing and why? Maybe it was the fact that Ollie and A.C were doing the same thing two rooms down?

Panic rose up in his gut.

If his buddies ever found out he got performance anxiety, they'd laugh at him right before they kicked his ass into next week.

Bart had to think and think fast. "Okay, man, just calm down. What would the almighty Bond do?"

Yes.

James Bond.

The only man alive who could deal with any situation and come out alive. If Bond could escape a space station, then Bart Allen could sure as hell get out of _this_.

He gave a brief, confidence boosting nod to himself. All he had to do was make it look like he'd done it. "First things first, set the DVD to play, and second... Make some noise!"

 **XOXOXO**

"Busty Asian chicks, busty Caucasain chicks, busty African-American chicks..." Oliver rummaged through the selection of magazines and DVD's, which basically involved busty chicks.

He sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. What the hell was with the fascination with busty freaking chicks, anyway? What happened to quality over quantity?

Sure, he liked a nice ass on a honey, but when it came to titties? He liked shape and not size. Like when perky boobs filled out just enough for him to cup with his hands.

"Oh, so now you wake up, huh?" Oliver glanced down at his best friend. "So, perky boobies do it for ya? I can ride with that."

A pretty blonde would go well with those perky boobies and then he paused for thought. A pair of baby pink nipples wouldn't go amiss, either.

Oh yeah, he liked that image and so did his buddy by the looks of things.

A hard-on wasn't exactly something that could be ignored and well, that's what he was here for, right? What harm could it do to just undo his pants a little?

He looked around the just to double check the room was empty before sliding his zipper down and, "Ahh, yeah." Freedom was really not overrated.

Oliver reached down and, "Mmm..." Felt pretty damn good.

If only it was the pretty blonde with the perky titties and pink nipples doing it. Now that would be fucking ace. Maybe she could be working at the clinic and she would walk in on him...

While wearing a white lab coat and big glasses that hid a pair of big green eyes.

Oh, she was _such_ a professor.

Professors had canes didn't they?

Canes they used on very bad boys...

Bad boys like him who get caught with their hands in the cookie jars.

"I've been naughty, Professor," Oliver muttered as he squeezed good and hard. "Very, very naughty..." He must be punished.

Punished by a professor with perky boobies and pink nipples hidden by a lab coat, big green eyes hidden by heavy glasses, and... And blonde hair tied up in a severe bun and a tight little ass covered by one those skinny fitting skirts.

Oh, ohhhh yeah.

She was quite the naughty lady under all that, wasn't she?

She'd push him down onto the small bed and lift up that ugly grey skirt, revealing a rather saucy pair of stocking and suspenders.

"Oh, _Professor_..." and Oliver's eyes went wide.

Shit, shit.

Where was the fucking cup? He was about to jizz all over his fucking pants and he needed the damn cup. Spying it near the magazines, he snatched it just in time to save his brand new jeans, not to mention his digty and self-respect.

He could only imagine the looks he'd get if he walked out there with stains. Everyone would know.

 **XOXOXO**

Arthur didn't know which way to turn or which lady to look at first. The hot rock chick with the tattoo on her hip? Or the equally hot one sucking on an ice pop that turned her lips red?

He picked up the rock chick and decided to call her, "Jessy," he sighed, a dreamy look in his eyes, but...

The one sucking the ice pop might feel neglected...

"Oh honey," he said and picked that magazine up. "Did you feel ignored? So sorry..."

Man, this place was heaven.

He looked from Jessy to the other one, who was such a Penny, and sighed again. Then there were the other ladies in the other magazines and the ones on the DVD's and he didn't know which one to choose...

Arthur glanced at the cup.

He was a gentleman and it would be very wrong and rude of him to attend to just one lady, right? Especially when all the ladies were naked to help good, kind men give women their babies.

"Asking for one more cup wouldn't hurt," he said with a firm nod. "It's for a good cause."

Without a second thought, he headed for the door and opened it enough to sick his head out. "Can I have another cup..." He glanced at the pile of magazines next to the DVD player. "Better make it another three."

 **XOXOXO**

Normally, sperm banks have rigorous testing that requires sperm samples of men between the ages of eighteen and forty. If the samples contain a high sperm count, the donor then signs a contract from six months up to a year.

Oliver Queen was allowed to give a sample when he stated he was merely there to support his friends, but if and only if, his sample was discarded. When the bank heard his name and the lawsuit that would occur, they more than happy to abide by his wishes. Not to mention the fact that his two healthy, handsome young friends wouldn't sign up without him there.

Unfortunately for the Bank of Star City, they had one particular employee that didn't have greatest track record when it came to getting things one hundred percent correct.

Her name was Helen Conroy and she often spent her lunch break puffing the magic dragon a few streets away and today was no different to Monday. Being high had a calming effect that left her in a bright, shiny places of rainbows and sunshine.

Sadly it also made her a little confused over which sample she was supposed to discard, especially when each sample was labelled with numbers and not names.

Two guys, both blonde haired and brown eyed, in opposite rooms made for a very confused Helen. Considering the saddo woman who couldn't get a man got to choose what she wanted, it didn't matter which cup was kept and which was thrown away.

Helen smiled happily.

Playing eeny meeny miney mo with spunk was fun!


	3. 3

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Rating: R for language used in some chapters.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Chlollie on LJ, FF.net, and whever else I choose to post it!  
Notes: I came up with the idea over sausages and I may be writing it, but a lot of folk have helped. Al, Strom, Gen, and Solo to name but a few. You know who you are :-D

Four half a years later saw Chloe Sullivan sat staring at her cousin, her entire being espressing sheer exhaustion. She pushed short strands of blonde away out of her eyes and prepared herself for the worst. "Did you find anything?"

Lois Lane looked as tired as she felt. "I did and you're not gonna like it."

A humourless smile appeared. "Just tell me, Lois. Please."

Anger turned her lips thin. "There was a mix-up at the bank on collection and one donor's sample was swapped for another."

A lump of dread formed in Chloe's chest. "When you say sample..." Something told her she really didn't want to hear the answer.

Lois took a deep breath that did little to calm. "I mean just that. One of the employees had been caught smoking pot and boom. Someone's little soldiers got sent to the wrong camp." She saw her cousin's face and could have kicked herself right in the head. "Sorry, Chlo."

"Do they..." Chloe tried to speak as her chest got tighter. "Do they know who?"

Her cousin pulled out a file that had been getting increasingly thicker with information, notes, names and addresses. "There were 130 men who donated that week, but only sixty-seven made the grade. I've already narrowed them down to the more possible ones."

Chloe took the offered folder with a nod of gratitude, but she'd learned long ago to trust her instincts and her instincts were screaming. "What else?"

Lois didn't want to drop this particular bombshell on her cousin, but it had to be done. "One of the donors is Oliver Queen. _The_ Oliver Queen."

Her first reaction was to laugh and laugh she did. A good, hearty laugh that honestly made the day just that bit brighter. "You're telling me," Chloe stated through her laughter. "That Oliver Queen donated to a sperm bank?"

Okay, so it was nice hearing her cousin laugh for the first time in months, but it was also a little irritating, especially considering the possible consequences. "Wednesday on July 28th 2010, at exactly 2:30 pm... And you're still laughing."

"I'm sorry, Lois," she chuckled. "I just can't see Oliver Queen donating. What could he possibly gain by donating sperm? It's probably someone with the same or similar name."

Her cousin wasn't laughing in any way, shape or form, and it began to dawn on Chloe that Lois was deadly serious. Wasting no time, she flipped open the file because she wanted to see it for herself. She stared at Oliver Jonas Queen's name written under a photograph before looking at her cousin.

"Did you record the conversation with the bank?"

"Oh yes," Lois stated quite firmly. "I'm thinking lawsuit and when we contact Oliver Queen, I'm sure he'll only too happy to help..."

"Are you serious? Contact Oliver Queen about a little girl that may or may not be his? He'd be happy to help with a lawsuit." When she laughed this time, it was without humour and lot more cynical. "There's no way a guy like him would help with anything except what's down his Armanis."

Silence reigned for a good few moments before Lois broke it. "You have to ask, Chloe, and you _know_ you do. There's too much to lose if you don't."

The younger woman looked into the hospital room where her daughter lay sleeping and though her eyes burned, no tears fell. It'd take more than a conversation with Oliver freaking Queen to make her cry.

Still, Chloe thought as she opened her mouth, "I think I'll leave him for last," and Lois couldn't help the laughter that left her mouth.

 **XOXOXO**

The first house Chloe went too was just on the outskirts of the city and if houses could be cute, then that's what it was. Not too big and not too small, with a smoking chimney and good sized windows that held floral blinds. The wasn't much of a yard at the front and she couldn't see the size of the back yard, and sure it was out the way of everything, but all in all, it did look like a nice place to live.

She sat in her car at the end of the drive double checking she had every bit of information that may be needed. Photos of her daughter? Check. Proof that he donated at that particular bank? Check. Proof that her daughter was honestly sick just in case he thought she was crazy? Check.

"Okay, Sullivan," Chloe breathed as nervousness began to take over her nerve. "Baby steps, remember? First goal... Get out of the car."

Her fingers never left the wheel.

"Again... Get out of the car."

Yet her fingers stayed right where they were.

Oh, this was stupid, _she_ was stupid.

Her beautiful, gorgeous little girl was in hospital and she was being an idiot. She didn't have time to be an idiot because any moment spent being an idiot was a moment wasted.

Chloe sucked it up and got out of her car, locking it before she got back in it. Smoothed down her shirt, tugged her pants into place, and pushed her hair behind her ears. She might sound like a crazy person, but she wasn't gonna look like one.

Each footstep up the path was a footstep closer to the potential father and though she tried not to get her hopes up, she knew they were partially there.

"You're here now, so just raise your fist and knock on the door."

It took a few knocks until someone answered and when they did, Chloe knew instantly the guy in front of her was definitely not her daughter's father. The guy in front of her was tall and broad shouldered, which didn't mean anything, but he had brown hair and green eyes. Still, she had to be sure.

Confusion shone in those green eyes. "Can I help you?"

"Erm..." Chloe began. "Did you donate any..." She couldn't bring herself to say sperm. "Bodily fluids to the Star City Bank about four and a half years ago? July 28th, to be exact."

The guy's face turned seven shades of red and his eyes darted here and there. "I did... Oh... Oh my God! That was supposed to be annoymous!" If his girlfriend found out about this...

Chloe was quick to stop his panic before he gave himself a coronary. "No, no, wait! It's not what you think, I promise. At least I don't think it's what you think, but I just need to be sure. Here, look."

She opened her file, pulling out the three photos of her daughter. "She's in hospital and needs a bone marrow transplant," she explained. "She doesn't have any siblings, so the best match is her father, and since I used the bank..."

The guy took the photos and his face fell and when he looked at her, it was with genuine feeling. "I'm sorry about your daughter, Mrs...?"

"Sullivan," she replied. "And it's just Miss. All I need to know is your blood type."

"I'm AB..."

Chloe closed her eyes and tried to get a hold of herself. "I can cross you off the list." God, she should've done better to keep her hopes down.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

"I'll just be going," she said when she opened her eyes. "Thank for your time, sir."

He gave a simple shrug and an expression that clearly said he wished he could do more.

She was about halfway down the path when his voice stopped her. "Do bone marrow transplants need the same blood type? Cos I was thinking..."

Stunned by the stranger's kind offer, Chloe turned back to look at him and it was all she could do to not throw her arms around him in gratitude. "It's very kind and I thank you for it, but family are often the best matches, which is why I'm breaking the rules to find my donor."

"In more ways than one," he said with a boyish grin that immediately fell when he realised what he said. "I-I mean... Um... Sorry."

Cloe smirked at his attempt to pull his foot from his mouth. "I know what you mean," she coughed to hide her snigger. "What's one more shot of bodily fluids? Thank you for your time and your generosity."

She was glad her car was in the opposite direction because it allowed her to effectively hide her giggling.

"Men," she sighed and unlocked the doors.

 **XOXOXO**

Any second now, Chloe would pick her jaw off the floor and put her eyeballs back in her head.

Any. Second. Now.

This had to be some kind of karmic joke invented specifically for her.

Not only was one prospective father a billionaire, but it looked as though there were three because there was no other explanation for what she was looking at right now.

A house, if one could call it that, stood less than fifty feet from the beach was a serious work of art. Two stories, , two sets of patio doors and two balconies, and it was completely, perfectly symmetrical.

As if the house itself wasn't enough to make her question karmic forces, there were three large sun loungers perfectly spaced right in front of a beautiful swimming pool that was at least 15 metres long.

Chloe walked up the gravelled drive, the crunch of loose stones under her shoes drowned out by the large WOW echoing constantly in her head. This was where two of her possible donors lives and hell if she wasn't hoping they would give her daughter the time of day...

There was the other side of that was thinking of how unsuitable it would be for Molly. All that glass could be hazardous to any little kid, let alone one with leukemia, and being so close to the beach was a big no-no. Too much risk of infection, even if the fresh sea breeze would probably do her the world of good.

Then there was another side to her, the side that wrote good crime novels and was always on the lookout for good locations and inspiration. Which was funny because all of her best-selling ones involved rich people...

Right now, she could fully understand why.

As a crime novellist, she made a decent enough living and would have had a more than comfortable income for her daughter and herself, but healthcare costs had been slowly eating into her savings over the last year or two. That was without taking into consideration of the cost of bone marrow transplants and the aftercare...

Chloe felt truly awful as she couldn't help but hope one these three were her daughter's father, not that money was the reason she was here, because it honestly wasn't. The reason was the tissue found inside hollow bones and that she would get, no matter what.

 **XOXOXO**

Arthur was walking back from the kitchen, two beers in one hand and a large bag of assorted chips in the other, while his teeth held a small packet of roasted nuts. "Ude? Ittle elp ere an?"

He frowned when he saw Bart staring out the large window with what appeared to be a lovestruck expression on his face. Oh great, he thought with an eye roll, Queen had bought another new car and prepared himself to hear hours of Bart's Can I Drive Your Car song.

"Mmm... Pretty girls are pretty..."

Arthur's brows rose.

Pretty girls?

Had Ollie planned a party without telling them? Cos that was just wrong.

He dropped the peanuts and chips to the floor and hurried to where his buddy had his face plastered to the sliding window, and peered out. Sure enough, there was a pretty girl staring at the ground of their pad, affectionately named El Guarido Del Amo.

Arthur watched her touch the sun loungers and stare up at the building as a whole before noticing him looking at her. Hoping to encourage the pretty one, he grinned and waved.

"Hey, jackass," Bart hissed. "The brewskis, dude."

Huh?

Oh, crap.

Arthur hid the bottles behind his back and kept on smiling, feeling like a world class moron when she crossed her arms and shook her head. She walked closer to the sliding windows until she was close enough for him to see a definite smirk on her face.

She stood there, waiting for something, but he wasn't quite sure what cos he was too busy trying to shove the beer into Bart's hands.

"And you two say I'm the douchebag," the younger one said kicked his buddy in the leg.

"What did you do that for?" Arthur yelled when the sudden sting shot up his calf and into his thigh.

Bart rolled his eyes, only pushing open the sliding glass window to give the pretty girl room to come in.

It finally dawned on Arthur what the young woman had been hoping for and mentally asked Bart to kick him again, this time in the head.

"Thank you," Chloe greeted them, her voice cry and filled with what was probably the first genuine bit of humour she'd felt in a very long time. "Mr. Allen?" She asked, not wasting any time through the need to know.

Bart grinned and puffed up his chest while giving her his most charming smile. "That would be me."

"I know this is gonna be a weird question, but may I have your blood type?"

The young man's face fell. He'd been sure his luck was finally in. "A, why?"

She nodded and glanced at the other young man. "I assume you're Mr. Curry? Same question."

Arthur blinked, sharing an obvious look of confusion with his buddy. "O and why?"

"Well," Chloe breathed out, finally allowing a smidgen of hope to rise up inside. "One of you could potentially be my daughter's father."

 **XOXOXO**

"Are you okay?" Chloe asked the younger man, her voice gentle and understanding.

Bart had been sat there holding and staring at photos of her daughter for the better part of an hour now, and he seemed to be getting increasingly nervous.

His mind was on a completely different track.

 _Oh God, oh God_ , he thought. _A.C and Ollie are gonna find out I'm freaking Big Bird, and they're gonna laugh and kill me and demand their money back_.

She spoke again and he only looked up when Arthur slapped the back of his head while trying to slyly look towards the blonde. "Huh?"

Chloe struggled to keep from smiling. If he thought she hadn't noticed the way he'd been looking at her ass then he was very much mistaken. "I asked if you were okay."

"Oh, uh, yeah. I'm fine."

She held her breath for a moment and put her glass of water down. "I know how she looks, Mr. Allen, but..." But what? It isn't as bad as it looks? Cos it kind of was.

In his panicked state, Bart grabbed onto her train of thought like a lifeline. "Oh, uh, it's just Bart and it isn't how she looks, Miss..."

"Chloe, please, then what is it?"

He showed his youth and naivety showed when he asked, "How do you cope?"

"Dude!" Arthur hissed, then apologised. "Sorry about him."

Chloe waved it off with a simple smile, but answered with her heart. "I love my daughter, Mr. Curry..."

"Arthur, or A.C," he offered.

"Then Chloe, please," she returned easily, relaxing a little more in their company. "I love Molly and I cope by knowing once I find the father, there's a good chance he'll be a match for her."

"A match? You mean like that bone marrow stuff?" Bart asked and she nodded. "Does it have to be a blood match?"

That was the second time she'd been asked that today and she was beginning to wonder about how little information there was out there regarding leukemia. "No you don't, I asked about the blood type because it takes certain groups to make certain groups."

"Like A positive and all that?"

"Yes," she had to smile at his curiosity. "Molly is O positive, and that means either one of you can be her father and if you are..."

Both Arthur and Bart understood what she was going to ask. The look in her eyes was one that asked them not to make her beg for her daughter to be saved.

Arthur was the first to speak. He couldn't let a little kid suffer like that, even if he had no clue about what the hell a bone marrow transplant entailed. "I'll take a DNA test and if you don't need to be a blood match..."

A wave of feeling had Chloe taking a big drink of her water to hide the fact she really was about to cry. Two total strangers had genuinely cared had offered too go through hell to help a little girl they didn't even know. "Thank you, Arthur," she said and the weight on her shoulders got a little lighter.

He gave a shrug and blushed. "I'm a gentleman," he stated, feeling oddly hot. "You want some more water? Or there's juice? I'd offer a beer, but you're probably driving. It's no trouble..."

For the millionth time that day, Chloe covered up a snigger with a cough. "That would be lovely, thank you," and he was gone before she could blink.

"So..." Bart began, unsure of what to say now that he was alone with her. "How come you used a donor? I figured a hot chick like you would be knocking em back with a stick."

This time when she coughed, it was with shock and surprise. "A hot chick?" She wheezed and gave her chest a pat. How long had it been since someone paid her a compliment? "I think I'm flattered."

He nodded vigorously. She should take it as a compliment. "Are there any other potentials?"

"Just one more," she managed. "Oliver Queen, though why on Earth he donated is beyond me."

Bart frowned at this. Oliver Queen's jizz had been thrown out and he said just that. "But..."

"There was a mix-up," Chloe stated shortly. "And there will be a lawsuit on the bank I used. Believe me. _Especially_ if Mr. Queen has a family history of illnesses. Though I have no idea how I'm gonna get to ask him for a DNA sample without being on the receiving end of a restraining order."

The young man thought very, very quickly. "If you help me, I'll help you."

"Excuse me?"

He leaned forward and whispered. "I didn't donate!"

Chloe stared at him. "You were there that day."

"I know, I know! I chickened out! I couldn't do it!"

What... _Ohhhhh_....

Performance anxiety.

"Then how can you help me if you aren't the one I'm looking for?"

Bart's confession bubbled right out of him. "Ollie and A.C gave their money to help me out at school, but I couldn't do it. You don't tell them that and I'll get you into the Queen manor." Seeing she wasn't quite following, "Oliver Queen owns this place and let's us rent it at low cost cos we've known each other all our lives."

Chloe narrowed her eyes. "You'd get him to see me for a while if I keep quiet?"

"You keep quiet and I'll get you a whole _hour_ with Oliver Queen."


	4. 4

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Rating: R for language used in some chapters.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Chlollie on LJ, FF.net, and whever else I choose to post it!  
Notes: I came up with the idea over sausages and I may be writing it, but a lot of folk have helped. Al, Strom, Gen, and Solo to name but a few. You know who you are :-D

Oliver had never gotten ready so fast in his life.

Showered and dressed in his nice clothes and good shoes, hair styled and cologne, all in under thirty minutes.

Now he stared at himself in his bedroom mirror, making sure he didn't look too over-done or too casual.

His simple grey shirt went well with his dirty denim jeans and simple black loafers. He ran his hand over his jaw, feeling for any signs of stubble, and thanked the world that his five o'clock shadow didn't appear for several hours after his first shave.

He thought about Bart and how lucky his buddy was that he only had to shave a couple of times a week, where himself had to do it at least twice a day. There were times when he figured no shaving rash was worth looking like King Kong.

Unfortunately, the paparazzi would have a field day if he went out looking uncouth and scruffy. The headlines didn't bear thinking about.

Oliver tucked his t-shirt into his jeans, turning his body this way and that, trying to get an idea of what would look better.

He studied his reflection for a moment before frowning. "Nah," a t-shirt tucked in just didn't look right and right is how he wanted to look. Especially if the blonde was as hot as Bart said.

Petite, his buddy had said in a rushed out breath. Petite and blonde and with one good set of hooters.

He checked his watch. "Four fifteen," he read. Another fifteen or so minutes and she'd be here.

Fifteen minutes wasn't long enough to properly set the mood, so he'd just have to set the mood while she was here. Wasn't like he hadn't done it before, so he pretty much knew what to do.

Once a bottle of Cristal was set in front of a girl, a bottle that came in an ice bucket and complimented with strawberries, then she was putty.

Usually most girls were putty when they heard his name was Queen, but some of them didn't believe him and needed that little extra push. Like the one Bart was sending his way.

Ollie pushed back Bart's comment about playing Tune In Tokyo with her nipples. That was a thought he did not want to be obvious when he looked at her.

He heard the doorbell chime and, "What?" She wasn't supposed to be here for another fifteen minutes.

She was obviously an eager one.

He hastily untucked his t-shirt and messed up his hair a little after deciding it was too perfect, then he shot a grin at his own reflection. "Guess I'll just have to improvise."

The doorbell rang again, so he hurried down the stairs only to pause at the bottom. After all, it wouldn't do to look eager or desperate.

Oliver cleared his throat and purposely walked so calmly to the door.

 **XOXOXO**

The beach house had been an amazing piece of designer architechture, but what she was looking at now was beyond stunning.

The Queen mansion wasn't massive or ostentatious and unlike a lot of mansions, it wasn't imposing and didn't scream wealth. Of course there were large wrought iron gates and some serious security, which they'd be fools not to have considering who they were, but...

She shook her head and kept on doing the only thing she could and stare.

Stone grey walls were topped by a slate blue roof and beautifully scupltured windows that looked out over a well-manicured lawn. There a couple of trees scattrered here and there that were clearly taken care of by way of how they looked. They weren't cut or shaped into something resembling an animal or crazy modern art, yet the branches were kept from going wild.

Those trees were placed adjacent to a pond of sorts that started straight before flaring out into a large yet neat circle that had a fountain right in the middle.

Chloe's imagination was caught and all she could do was imagine the place lit up on a mid-summer's eve. God, the place would be _spectacular_. The whole thing was tasteful, elegant in the only way a woman could make it, and she knew she was looking at Mrs. Queen's house.

No, she thought, she was looking at Mrs. Queen's _home_.

No-one put this much energy into a simple house, mansion or not.

Which made it all the more nerve wrecking.

She was so very careful about not walking on the grass and resisted the urge to dip her fingers and toes in the pond, opting instead to carry on towards the front door.

"Front door?" Chloe scoffed rather jealously as her eyes took in the simple oak and glass design. She bet herself twenty dollars the door alone had been featured in the Home Made monthly magazine more than once. Hell, it was probably in the Top Ten list of doors to see before you die.

Did she knock or use the doorbell?

If she knocked, then they might not hear it from across the hall, so she went with the doorbell and chastised herself for the attitude.

Wouldn't do any good if she spoke with a bite, especially not considering what she was asking for.

She pressed the doorbell and jumped when the melody sounded. It was a dark, Gothic chime that didn't fit at all with the house and she had to give Mrs. Queen credit for her sense of humour, because that's what it had to be. A place like this with a melody that could have been Count Dracula's theme?

Definitely a sense of humour.

Chloe waited, then waited some more and when nobody answered, she pressed the doorbell again, only to wait some more.

If Bart Allen had lied to her about this, she'd show up at that house every damn day and make him see what his lying caused. Even if it meant taking pictures of her little girl when she was suffering.

She was about to turn away when the door opened and allowed her to see Oliver Queen.

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver looked the cute little blonde over as he cursed Bart.

He couldn't see any hooters for the damn jacket she wore and she certainly wasn't hot enough to give a hard-on with looks alone.

For a start, the woman had dark circles under her eyes that she tried to cover up and her forehead were showing signs of continual frowning brought on by misery.

Despite all that, he had to shake his head to rid his head of his professor. Sure the woman in front of him had green eyes and was a petite blonde, but she was so...

He couldn't find a word to describe her except tired.

Still, he was raised to be polite and so he gave her the smile reserved for the papers, and held out a hand for her to take. "You must be Miss. Sullivan..."

Chloe struggled to keep her lip from curling up with distaste.

It was plain to see what kind of person Oliver Queen was as he stood there, plastic smile pasted on his face and looking for all the world like he just rolled out of bed. Which he probably had. Being The Son obviously came with chronic laziness and the need to play dress up for any woman showing up on his doorstep.

She ignored both his hand and the look he was giving her, choosing instead to give him the sweetest smile possible. "I am indeed Miss. Sullivan," she said, her voice saccharine. "And I think you fathered my daughter."

Oliver's smile immediately turned upside down and one eyebrow touched his hair line. Did she think he was an idiot who didn't know a gold digger when he saw one? "Sure I am," he replied, acid dripping from his tongue. "And there's a pot of gold at the end of the rainbow, which isn't down my pants."

 

How the hell had her gorgeous little daughter come from this dickwad?

 

He was so going to pay for judging her before knowing any of the facts or her reasons for being here. Bart and A.C had clearly lied to her about Oliver Queen being a decent guy, or they were just blind to his true character.

Chloe's sweet smile only disappeared when she had to talk. "It must have been another Oliver Queen who donated sperm four and half years ago," then she watched as his smile got effectively wiped off his face.

Oliver glared at the woman in front of him. "Now I know you're lying because they said my donation would be discarded."

It was clear to her that she was getting to him, so she kept on playing the insipid blonde. "Yeah, about that," she began, "There was an employee there who was high and switched the samples. Tag, you're it."

He glanced over his shoulder before turning a fierce gaze on her. "Do you know that Stewart and Sons law firm works for Queen Industries? Or should I say my father's company?"

Okay, enough was enough.

Seeing her condescension was being completely missed, Chloe dropped her sweet facade and gave him her own fierce gaze. "Yes, I've hired them to sue the Bank of Star City for giving me the wrong donation."

He couldn't believe it, didn't want to believe it. "That doesn't mean it was my donation that spawned your brat."

"Brat?" Chloe's voice was almost a distant echo in her ears. She thought of her Molly sat in the hospital, smiling and laughing despite everything she'd suffered and was going to suffer.

The only thing preventing her from smacking him into next year was the fact she would probably land in jail for marring his picture perfect face. Which was ironic. A pretty face for an ugly person.

"You dare call my daughter a brat?"

"Operative word there, babe. Your daughter, not mine."

"I didn't say is, you prick. I said might be. That selective hearing must come handy when people say things you don't want to hear. Like the truth." The truth of just how horrible a person he was under the expensive clothes and toothpaste grin.

"The very idea of you being her father makes me sick," she spat, anger had her breathing deep and hands forming fists. "You're the kind of person who wouldn't spare her a wave hello, let alone give bone marrow to save her life."

Chloe got a hold of herself before she broke down. The last thing she wanted was to have Oliver fucking Queen see her cry over shattered hopes of saving her daughter. "I hope to God your friends wake up and see you for what you really are."

Oliver stood and watched her walk away, not knowing what the hell to do or say. He opened his mouth to try to say something, anything, but nothing came out, so he did the only thing he could and went back inside.

His mind had no time to digest what had just been said when he heard his mother gasp.

"You might have a child?"

 **XOXOXO**

Laura Queen stared at the son Robert and herself had raised to be a good, decent man and wondered where the hell they'd gone wrong. She'd heard every word exchanged and shame washed through her when listening to her son's response.

What really hurt her heart was hearing a woman say she felt sick at the thought of Oliver being her daughter's father. That said more than anything else about her son's behaviour.

She walked past him as calm as could be and straight out the door, hoping to catch the young woman before she could leave. "Miss. Sullivan," she called and had to pick up her pace when the young lady started to hurry.

No doubt she thought the person following was Oliver.

"Miss. Sullivan, please wait."

Chloe wanted to ignore the woman behind her, but she wasn't brought up to be an ignorant moron. She stopped and faced the woman who had be Mrs. Queen, yet she couldn't bring herself to say anything.

"Please forgive my son, Miss. Sullivan," Laura spoke. "He's..."

Of course she'd be worried about her precious little boy. "Don't worry about it," Chloe stated evenly. "There's nothing to forgive."

Laura Queen frowned at the implication in the young woman's words. "I'm not blind to his faults, Miss. Sullivan. I know how he can be."

"Then maybe it's time he started apologising for his actions."

Though Laura's first instincts was to defend her son, but she just couldn't bring herself to do so. Still, she couldn't have this young woman, the mother of her potential grandchild, think Oliver was rotten to the core.

"Please," she said. "Come inside where we can discuss this."

Was the woman trying to bribe her in some way? "If you'll pardon me," Chloe fought to keep her tone even. "I don't think there's anything to discuss. He clearly has no intention of hearing me out and to be perfectly honest, I'd rather choke than be within fifty feet of your son again."

"To be fair," Laura wouldn't stand for slander towards any of her family, even if they deserved it. "You did drop quite the bombshell on him."

"Your son should have thought about the consequences before he desposited a cup full of love at the bank."

Mrs. Queen looked at the other woman for a good few moments. Obviously the very mention of her son made Miss. Sullivan ill and that cut a hole right out of her heart.

 _Oh, Oliver. What have you become_?

She had to broach the woman in a different way. "You say you have a child," Laura tried. "What's her name?"

None of your business, Chloe wanted to say, but the woman was trying. "Molly," she replied in a clipped tone that warned the other mother to keep the personal questions mimimal.

"That's a nice name. Does it run in the family?"

"What are you getting at, Mrs. Queen?"

Laura sighed, knowing her attempt had been discovered. "How would you react to someone making your daughter out to be something she isn't?"

Chloe smirked. "You mean like brat?"

The elder woman mentally winced. She definitely needed a way to get through to the young lady and she thought back to the conversation she'd overheard.

"I get the fact you mean well and want to protect your son from whatever press hell I may rain down on him, but you don't have to worry. No-one will hear anything from me." Well, no-one who didn't have access to a squadron of US marines who would be more than willing to give Oliver Queen a hiding.

"You said something about bone marrow," Laura recalled and a made a point to look intrigued. Though she knew little about bone marrow, she did know it used to treat cancers and leukemia...

Oh God.

Miss. Sullivan's daughter had cancer.

She knew she'd hit a nerve when Miss. Sullivan visibly tensed and stared harshly at her. "What about it?"

In no way would Laura ever use a child with cancer to help improve her son's image. "I..."

Chloe's smile was bitter, "Don't worry, Mrs. Queen. My daughter's on the register. I'm sure everything will work out."

"How can you stand there and tell me not to worry?" Laura snapped at the young mother's condescending tone. "That child might be my granddaughter."

Chloe could only hope not.

"I know my son hasn't given you any reason to think good of this family, but I'm not my son and neither is my husband," and Christ, her son had a lot to answer for.

"No," Chloe admitted grudgingly. "You're not your son."

"Then please," Laura asked. "Come inside. I'll see to it Oliver is nowhere to be seen. I promise."

Chloe blinked rapidly to clear her eyes. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, Mrs. Queen, but talking won't do anything except waste our time."

"How do you know?"

"Because you're too old to donate and your son... Well, you obviously heard our little chat." She gave a tired smile. "That's what I came for. Not money or a lifetime commitment. I just need bone marrow to save my daughter."

Seeing she was about to walk away again, Laura tried one more thing and hated herself for it. "Don't my husband and I deserve to hear about our granddaughter, Miss. Sullivan? If she does turn out to be our granddaughter, I can assure you we will do everything we can to gain access."

Mrs. Queen would never forget the hatred in Miss. Sullivan's eyes.

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver watched as his mother walked back toward the house with the blonde in tow and he had to look away at the expression she shot him. She looked worn and ashamed and he could have sworn she was holding back tears.

If that blonde harpy had said anything and then he looked at that blonde harpy, the hell in her eyes taking him aback.

It was plainly clear Miss. Sullivan wanted nothing to do with this family, so why was his mother bringing her back?

Laura Queen answered that herself. "I want you out of my sight, Oliver Jonas Queen. Do you hear me?"

Oliver didn't get a chance to reply as the other woman walked past him without so much as a glance.

Oh no.

Oh _hell_ no.

If his mother had fallen for whatever sob story Miss. Sullivan came out with, then no way in hell was he leaving.

He knew his mother and she had a heart the size of Texas, making her very easy to be taken advantage of, something he wouldn't put past the blonde.

Oliver closed the door with a loud bang and straightened himself up before following the two women into the lounge, where he saw both women engaged in a staring contest.

While his mother had a good heart, she also stood firm when it came to something she believed in. Which gave him more reason to stick around to keep her from the claws of a gold digger with a sick kid.

Sick kid?

How many times had he heard that one?

Apart from none.

Hell, he hadn't even had the baby daddy thing. Most of the ladies he wined and dined were happy enough to receive pretty clothes here and a few connections there. Not only did he get what he wanted, but it kept them happy enough to leave him alone after all was said and done.

A good relationship was all about diplomacy. Well, his were at any rate.

Still, that didn't mean it couldn't happen and Oliver didn't believe the woman one little bit.

"So," he stated in a welcoming tone that was as false as his smile. "Anyone for coffee?"

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver didn't an answer, so he tried again. "Anything before I sit down? Because how annoying is that?"

Laura didn't once turn her attention to her son. "I'd like some iced tea, thank you, and for yourself, Miss Sullivan?"

"No, thank you. I won't be staying," was Chloe's reponse.

Only then did Laura look at Oliver and he really wished she didn't. "Oliver, bring a selection of refreshments so our guest can help herself."

Confining someone to the house through manners was certainly a new one for her.

"Great!" Oliver gave a large grin and clapped his hands. "Iced for mom and whatever Miss. Sullivan desires."

"Then you can make yourself scarce."

Like hell. "You two ladies make yourselves comfortable and I'll be right back."

Not giving either one a chance, Oliver hastily fled to the kitchens.

Laura waited until her son's footsteps could no longer be heard before she spoke. "Please have a seat, Miss. Sullivan," and ignored the look in the young woman's eyes as she calmly sat in her favourite seat.

White hot anger boiled Chloe's blood.

Didn't the woman understand she had a child waiting for her in the hospital?

"If you don't mind, Mrs. Queen," Chloe said, careful to her voice free of venom. "But my daughter will be waiting for me at the hospital." Plus, standing made it easier to run away and run away was just what she wanted to do.

The woman was stubborn as a mule and didn't look like she was willing to say anything. Laura sighed, exhausted. "Okay, Miss. Sullivan. You're free to leave."

Chloe softened just a little. "I was always free to leave, Mrs. Queen. I don't appreciate being manipulated into giving information about my daughter. Even if... No, especially if you're her grandmother."

Laura grabbed the olive branch with both hands. "All I want is what you wanted from my son, Miss. Sullivan. A few moments of your time, nothing more."

"She might not be your granddaughter," Chloe reminded lightly.

"There's no harm with indulging an old woman, is there?"

Chloe paused as she took in the sincerity on the other woman's face. "I guess not," she said and sat down on the closest seat.

Laura couldn't quite keep from smiling. "You said her name was Molly?"

"Yes. Molly Ann. It isn't a family name, to answer your earlier question."

The reply was a tad abrupt, but Mrs. Queen could live with that for now. "How old is she?"

Despite the current tension, Chloe found it all too easy to get sucked in by the other woman and her eager need to know about a little girl. She smiled and relaxed a little. "She's four, but she'd say four and a half."

Laura chuckled. "Those six months are very important, you know. Makes all the difference," then wondered why her words brought tears to the young mother's eyes, though they never fell.

"Yes, Mrs. Queen," Chloe cleared her throat. "Six months does make all the difference."

Not being to understand, the elder woman simply asked another question. The more information she had, the better. "Do you have any pictures?"

"I do, but..."

Laura frowned in confusion. "But what?"

"She's sick, Mrs. Queen, and..."

"A little bit upsetting?"

Chloe nodded. "I only brought the pictures of her in hospital to... Well, to guilt the donor into giving me some bone marrow."

Laura was a mother and sometimes it was a curse as much as it was a blessing. She'd never been able to stand by and hear a child cry without wanting to do something, anything, to help, so she prepared herself.

Then she was handed a small pile of photos and it felt like her heart had been torn right from her chest. A cry escaped as she stared down at the mirror image of her son and her brain spun that image until it was her son.

Laura glanced up at Miss. Sullivan, who was without a shadow of a doubt, the mother of her granddaughter.

"I know, Mrs. Queen," Chloe said softly. "I'm a mother," and confusion appeared as the other woman got up and left the lounge with the words excuse me, I won't be a moment thrown her way.

There was no Oliver and no Mrs. Queen, so now would make it a great time to...

"I bring refreshments..."

She sighed.

There went her escape route.

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver would have entered the lounge five minutes earlier, but paused when he heard his mother ask that damn harpy to have a seat and he scowled at the rude refusal. His mother brought her back into the house and that woman was acting like a personal invitation was an everyday occurance?

He shook his head and prepared to enter, ready to speak his mind when his mother told the harpy she was free to leave if she wanted.

Of course the harpy chose to stay, which merely solidified his thoughts that she was just a gold digger with a fake sob story.

"Bart Allen," he muttered to himself. "You are so getting your ass kicked."

Then his mother made a sound he'd never heard in his life and before he could do anything, she was walking past him, a hand covering her mouth.

Oh, that was it, he thought angrily. The harpy was going to deal with him.

Oliver put on his best press smile and sauntered in, all happy and joyful. "I bring refreshments..." he half sang with false enthusiasm and placed a large tray on the table next to Chloe's seat.

"I don't want you out of this house, Miss. Sullivan," he said, still keeping the smile on his face. "I want you out of the damn state."

Chloe merely arched a single brow and spoke to him like he was a child. "I want never gets."

"Unless that I is me, then I always get what I want."

"If you were my son and you said that to a guest, I'd give you one hell of a talking too, sunshine."

Oliver leaned close enough to feel her nose against his. "Then it's a good thing I'm not. I pity your kid, Miss. Sulliva..."

Okay, _ow_.

He touched the side of his face which now stung like a fucking bitch.

"Now you listen to me, you pathetic excuse for a human," Chloe snarled. "You ever, and I do mean ever, talk that way about my daughter again? Oliver Queen or no, I swear I will kill you."

She'd _slapped_ him.

She'd threatened his _life_.

In his own _home_.

Oliver's expression was not a pretty sight as he looked at her. "You ever make my mother cry out like that again? I'll have your name torn to shreds."

Chloe shook her head. "You'll have my name torn to shreds? Have? Implying that you won't tear my name to shreds, but need someone to do it for you. I don't know what's more... Pathetic was the word I used, right? I don't know what's more pathetic. You needing someone to do your dirty work or the fact you think I give a damn about my _name_."

The only thing preventing him from replying was the sound of his mother returning.

Oliver put on that large, plastic smile. "As you can see, Miss. Sullivan, you can have whatever you want," he said, then lowered his voice. "Especially the front door hitting your ass on the way out."

"Thank you, Mr. Queen," Chloe replied with an equally large, plastic smile before she also lowered her voice. "I'd rather have your face kissing my fist."

"Please," he oh so graciously offered. "Call me Oliver."

Chloe merely smiled. "I'd rather stick to Mr. Queen."

"I'm afraid, Miss. Sullivan," Laura stated as she fully entered the lounge, her voice still wavering with shock. "It might be best if you get used to calling him Oliver," and passed the young mother some photos.

Both Chloe and Oliver found themselves looking at baby pictures of Oliver in his toddler years and it was undeniable.

Oliver Queen was the father of Molly Sullivan.


	5. 5

Chapter 5

Robert Queen settled himself against the edge of his desk, his brown eyes full of understanding as he stared at his son who was currantly looking down at a seal white envelope.

"Are you going to open it, son?" He asked, his voice warm and kindly encouraging. Though after seeing the photos his wife had shown him, he hadn't actually needed to see he results, but they were needed in more ways than one.

Laura put her hand on her son's knee. "It's okay, Oliver Jonas."

God, her mother's voice made him want to cry. "How the hell is it going to be okay, mom?" Oliver finally lowered his hands and couldn't help but glare at the woman to his right. "There might be more of them out there."

"Then we'll deal with that if and when we have too, alright?"

"Mom..."

She raised her tone. "Alright?"

Oliver turned his glare to the floor and the envelope that sat by his feet. He went to do it, to pick it up and open it and see, but he couldn't. He honestly didn't want to know if the kid was his or not.

Seriously, what was he gonna do with a kid?

He kept his bitter smirk to himself.

Apart from give it bone marrow, of course.

"Oliver," his dad spoke again and this time, the tone was firmer and meant business.

Though a gentleman, Robert Queen didn't get to where he was without knowing how to be ruthless when it counted.

Oliver looked to his mother for help, but she merely pulled away from him and shook her head, ignoring every maternal instinct that screamed for her to protect her baby boy from anything.

Robert watched his son's reaction as he turned to his mom and he was taken back to when Oliver was about five or six, and had stolen apples from the gardener's private grounds. He'd been made to apologise and give the apples back, but Laura had cushioned the blow with hugs and kisses, saying all little boys did silly things like that.

Robert remembered looking down at his son and seeing tear streaks on the boy's dirty face, and he'd caved. Just because the boy was a Queen didn't mean he had to forgo all boyish things to do, but now...

Now he wondered if Laura and himself had been to relaxed with Oliver as he was growing up.

Robert glanced at his wife and saw how she was responding, and made a decision. "Honey? Can you give us some privacy, please? I'd like to talk to Oliver alone."

Laura frowned and was ready to decline, but another look at her son had her nodded. "Of course, darling. I have some errands to run, so..."

Before standing, she leaned over and kissed Oliver on the cheek. "Listen to what your father says, son. I love you."

Oliver gave a brief nod. "You two, mom," and smiled slightly. "I hear grapes are a good thing to take. I mean, that's where you're going, right? To see _her_?"

Robert chuckled as his wife coughed.

"And just how do you know where I'm going, hm?" She mock demanded.

"Because you're a mom," he replied simply. "A mom that can't stand to see a kid suffer, even if it's not yours."

"No, son," Laura said with a proud smile. If only Miss. Sullivan could see he wasn't such a bad man to have as her daughter's father. "I can't."

Oliver nodded. "Then I better make sure she's mine before you get too involved."

He snatched the envelope off the floor, ignoring the hot rush of nervousness that made his palms sweaty, and closed his eyes as he tore it open. A count of three past before he got the courage to look down at the DNA results and his stomach dropped.

Laura was on the edge of her seat while Robert held his breath. "Well?"

"97.9 percent match," Oliver gripped the paper as he ignored the urge to run far, far away and pretend this wasn't happening. "She's mine, mom. She's my daughter."

When not one of his parents said anything, he looked at first his father and then his mother, who were both watching him. "Aren't you gonna say something?" He asked, hating how he sounded.

Oliver didn't want to be the father of that harpy's kid.

Hell, he didn't want to be the father to anyone's kid.

There was a part of Laura that wanted to say she knew from the second she saw the photographs, but had a feeling that would only cause her son to withdraw. Looking at her husband, she deferred to his expertise in the matter.

After all, Robert Queen once found out he was a father.

"Yes," she eventually stated, unable to keep the little smile off her lips. "I'll inform Miss. Sullivan of the news in case her copy hasn't arrived." Or if the woman had thrown it away.

Oliver sneered at the name. "I'm sure she'll be thrilled at the news."

Robert's eyes hardened somewhat. "I'm sure she will, son. It means there's a chance her daughter can be saved."

"Whoa, whoa," his son brought up his hands. "Who said anything about that?"

"What?" Laura muffled her gasp with her hands. "Oliver..." Surely he didn't mean he wasn't going to...

"No, no," he said, wide eyed and determined to be heard before they jumped to conclusions. "We don't even know if her story is true, right? What if mom goes to the hospital and finds there's no Sullivan, huh? Even if there is, what the hell is bone marrow, anyway? I don't know a damn thing about what the kid has."

His mother used a voice he'd never heard. "Molly," she replied as she stood. "Your _daughter's_ name is Molly. Bob, sweetheart, I'll leave you to it."

She couldn't sit there anymore and listen to her son be so callous, and justify it with ignorance. "I'll see you later, Oliver Jonas."

Without another word, Laura left her husband's study and quietly closed the door behind her.

"Drink?" Robert offered.

 **XOXOXO**

As she drove towards the hospital, Laura considered everything from the clothes she wore and car she drove to her greeting and how to ask if she could meet her granddaughter. She hadn't wanted to appear too rich in case Miss. Sullivan thought she was trying too hard to flash the family wealth in order to get what she wanted.

So, she'd opted for a simple pale lavendar cashmere sweater with an equally simple pair of black pants that she'd gotten in a sale two years ago. The car was actually her own and was a plain old Volvo.

Personally, she never could understand why her husband and son insisted on owning cars like Ferraris and Porsches and Lotuses. Every car conversation those two had sounded like gobbledegook to her.

She understood as much about cars as she did about quantum physics, which was less than nothing.

The hospital came into sight and Laura made the turn, her mind swiftly shifting from cars to what she was going too say to Miss. Sullivan.

She honestly wasn't looking forward to delivering the news that her son was Molly's father. All she could hear was Miss. Sullivan the very thought of that made her sick.

 _The very idea of you being her father makes me sick_.

Those words would live in her memory for a long, long time, and though Laura couldn't justify her son's attitude, she could understand his hesitation. What she couldn't grasp was how her son came to be the person he was.

She knew how he was and what he did, but she couldn't say anything because he was an adult and as an adult, he had to make his own choices. She couldn't force him to do anything and as much as she wished, she couldn't be a parent to him now.

Her boy was all grown up and it was sad to see a 33 year old living the life of a teenager.

Laura sighed as she slowed down to make the turn into the hospital parking lot, her mind still on how she could explain her presence to Miss. Sullivan. She couldn't just go in there and ask to see her granddaughter, because Miss. Sullivan might not have gotten the results today and if she did, there was nothing to say those results hadn't been thrown away.

Miss. Sullivan could quite easily lie about her daughter's parentage and Laura couldn't quite bring herself to place blame.

She shook her thoughts away and got herself together.

Molly Sullivan was her granddaughter and there was nothing else to it.

 **XOXOXO**

Robert poured poured two healthy amounts of his best scotch into his best glasses and handed one of them to his son, who looked well and truly wrung out. "Get this down you, son," he said. "It'll give the system a boost."

Oliver chuckled quietly and took the glass, sniffing the liquid before wrinkling his nose. The stuff was vile. "I hate scotch."

"No," his father smirked. "You hate the scotch _you_ drink, not the scotch us old folks drink." He didn't know how the youth of today could stand the rubbish bought in clubs.

His boy arched his brows in surprise. "This is your good stuff?"

"Single malt, smoky, smooth..." Robert's eyes closed as he took a nice, slow sip, then let out an _ahhh_ of appreciation. "That, Oliver Jonas, that is whisky. Not the paint stripper you kids buy."

Oliver rolled his eyes and sucked it up before taking a sip.

Oh. God.

It was smooth alright.

For about five seconds before the heat started to melt his oesophagus and caused him to choke while his eyes started to water. He whacked his chest, glaring up at the man who was stood there thoroughly enjoying his discomfort.

"How can you drink this?" Oliver wheezed. "It's gross!"

It was Robert who rolled his eyes this time. "This is a connissuers drink of choice."

"It's the drink of choice for those with no taste buds."

His father shook his head. "Your great-grandfather would be ashamed of you," he tutted. "He worked with his father in the Scottish..."

Not this story again. "I know, dad," Oliver grunted. "Believe me."

Robert stared at his son. "Maybe you don't know, Oliver. Your great-grandfather worked his fingers to the bone to give a better life to his son, my father carried on that hard work to give me a better life and I've done the same for you."

Seeing his boy look away, he pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed. "I can't tell you how to live your life. Heaven knows you're old enough now to make your own choices, but..."

"The clinic said my donation would be discarded..." Oliver strongly defended.

"I'm not talking about that. I'm talking about your behaviour, son. Out for all hours of the night and showing up late for work. You're 33 and acting 20, and it has to stop. If not for your sake, then for the sake of your mom."

"Sure I turn up late, but I do my job," his son stated, his tone clipped. "You _know_ I do my job."

Robert sipped his scotch and thought about what he would say in response. "You do it well, Oliver, but if you weren't my son, I'd have fired you years ago." He let that confession sink in before continuing. "You are my son and I'm confident you'll pull your socks up on your own."

"Duly noted," Oliver dryly replied and grinned at the irritated expression on his dad's face. Unfortunately, his dad didn't appear to share his humour and he sighed. "I'll do better, dad. I promise," and he _would_ do better.

His father shook his head. "I don't promises, son. Your mother and I just want to see you proud of yourself. We want you to be the man we know you _are_ under it all."

It didn't take a genius to figure out what his dad meant by all. The clothes, the shoes, the family name and money, his looks...

Oliver was the first to say he wasn't proud of how he lived, but it hurt hearing it from his father, a man he respected and admired with his entire being. Then there was his mother.

He'd been a mommy's boy and it was a royal kick in the teeth to know she felt the same as his dad about him. He had to be a better person for his parents and he knew that, but he didn't know how.

He didn't get a chance to say anything when Robert again waved his free hand. "So," he said at length and sat next to his son, easing into His Seat. "You have a daughter."

"I was waiting for this."

"I'm not judging you, Oliver Jonas. I know you're mostly a victim in this situation, but you also have to remember Miss. Sullivan didn't ask to have you as the father. It would be a different matter if she had," Robert admitted. "Yet she didn't."

"As far as we know," Oliver muttered and knocked back a healthly gulp, this time prepared for the warming sensation of good scotch.

"I personally looked into and there was an employee who was fired for negligence. What your Miss. Sullivan said was true." His father paused. "Though I still don't understand why Bart didn't just ask for financial help."

The kid had worked his ass off to get the PR job at Queen Industries and he should have known he could have for help. Yet like all young men, his son included, Bart Allen had his pride.

His son gave a snort of laughter. "Who knows why Bart does anything. He's looking into night-time cooking classes."

Robert was about to take a sip when his boy's words hit home and he turned, horrified. "That is a joke, right?"

"Nope," Oliver smirked. "Something to do with someone called Henrietta?" Or was it Harriet?

"Harriet Ellis?"

"That's the one."

"She's my secretary's sister and your mother's co-president for the Wishing Star charity."

Oliver's jaw dropped. "She's 42!"

Robert gave his son a pat of sympathy and mocked the young Mr. Allen. "Age is just a number, dude, I mean Mr. Q. Once the lady get a taste of the Bart Man, she ain't ever lookin back."

Oliver openly cringed. "Okay, first? Don't ever do that again. Seriously, dad. Not ever. Second? Bart got her details after he stole my address book."

His father nodded. "I'll warn her."

Bart Allen might be one of the best PR's in the country, but he was an absolute disaster with women. The guy seemed to think that more was definitely better and often ended up with a hand print rather than a lip print.

Silence fell between the two men and went on for a good few minutes as they both simply sat there, staring across the study and waiting for the other to speak.

Having had enough, Oliver graced his dad with a sly look. "Say it, dad."

"Say what?" Robert was all innocence.

"Say what you think I should do."

"About what?"

"Her, the kid, everything."

Robert sighed. This was Oliver's downfall and it always would be if he didn't learn to trust himself and the decisions he made. "I can't do that, son."

Oliver let his head hit the back of the sofa. "I was expecting a booty call, dad. Mom tell you that? Then there was this..." and there was no other word for Miss. Sullivan. "Harpy..."

Robert couldn't help it and literally burst out laughing. A full, hearty, belly aching laugh that earned him a glare. "Harpy? Your mother was quite taken with her."

"Can't see why," his son grit out. "She just stood there, on the doorstep, with a sweet little smile and said _I am indeed Miss. Sullivan and I think you fathered my daughter_. God, dad, she made me so angry."

"I suppose you made her so happy," he father said easily. "From what your mother told me, Miss. Sullivan mentioned how the thought of you being the father made her sick," and he was pleased to see the reminder shut his son up pretty quick. "Sounds like you both got off on the wrong foot."

"There's no right foot with that woman," Oliver grumbled, not willing to say how much those words of hers stung. "Honestly, dad. I'm lost here. I don't know what the kid has or what bone marrow has to do with it or anything."

"There's only one way to find out, son," Robert drank the rest of his scotch. "And while I can't tell you what to do, I will help you in anyway I can. We both will."

 **XOXOXO**

Laura was expecting certain rules and guildlines for visiting a child in the Oncology ward, but not to this standard. Then again, she hadn't thought of how swine flu might have affected the health and safety of hospitals in general.

She was given a green sticker to show she'd been cleared for visitation after being given a face mask and had her hands thoroughly sanitized. Anyone under the age of twelve was not allowed and neither was anyone with a cough or a sniffle, and it was a little bit daunting if she was honest.

Though not daunting enough to make her turn away from seeing her granddaughter.

She walked down the corridor, trying not to look into the private rooms that held children like Molly. It was not only an extremely rude thing to do, but she also wasn't yet ready to be faced with the reality of the fate her very own granddaughter may have.

Laura paused long enough to get herself under control.

Being a mother was both a blessing and a curse at times like this, and she wanted to weep, something she outright refused to do. The private rooms she'd walked past had contained laughter and story-telling and games, and she refused to give pity where it was not wanted.

She resumed the walk down the corridor and only stopped when she heard Miss. Sullivan's voice.

"You put that back, Molly Anne."

"Nuh-uh."

"Yuh-huh."

"Finders, keepers."

"Cheaters, losers."

"I didn't cheat, mom. Cross my heart."

"You stole money out of the bank! I'm gonna call the cops!"

Laura moved as quietly as she could towards the little room at the corner and peered in, and nothing on this Earth could have prepared her for seeing her granddaughter in the flesh.

A dark blue dressing robe dwarfed the girl's tiny frame while big brown eyes dominated a thin face. Her cheekbones seemed to be so large for a girl of four and her mouth was pure Queen, and it was she could do not to go grab and cuddle the girl to keep her safe from the world.

Then those brown looked up from the Monopoly board and widened as she immediately went quiet, an action that reminded her of Oliver when he'd been that age.

Chloe instantly noticed her daughter's reaction and turned her head, expecting to see either her uncle Sam or one of her friends, but it wasn't so.

Seeing Mrs. Queen at her daughter's room could only mean one thing and one thing only.

Laura read the expression on the young mother's face and sighed. "Oliver isn't a..."

Chloe cut the woman's sentence short when she turned back to her daughter. "Sweetheart?"

Molly glanced up from playing patterns with her houses. "Yeah?"

Chloe arched a brow and the little girl's shoulders dropped as she corrected herself. "Yes?"

"I just need too talk to the nice lady for a little bit. I'll be right down the hall and you know to press the button if you don't feel very well, okay?"

Molly glanced at the strange lady. "Why?"

"Because it's important, sweetie."

"But... Why?"

Laura had to press her lips together to keep from chuckling when Miss. Sullivan's eyes rolled.

"Because I said so."

"Why, though?"

This time, Mrs. Queen simply couldn't help herself and laughed outright. That girl was exactly how her son had been. Full of curiosity and wanting to know about everything and anything he could.

She looked at Miss. Sullivan. "Do you mind?"

Chloe spoke through thinned lips. "Of course I don't mind."

Laura knew sarcasm when she heard it. "Thank you," she murmured as she walked further into the room, her gaze softening with every step. "You must be Molly," she said and took the seat recently vacated.

The little girl eyed her, but remained silent.

Chloe bit back a smirk. Her daughter would never speak to strangers. "It's okay, honey. She's a friend. You can speak to her."

Laura blinked when Molly spoke. "Stranger danger."

Chloe herself laughed and addressed Mrs. Queen. "You have a green sticker, so you can take that off," and gestured to the face mask.

Mrs. Queen looked unsure, unable to keep from glancing at Molly.

Chloe tried not to feel insulted at the mistrust. After all, it wasn't the woman's fault she didn't know what she was asking to be involved with. Still, she had to say something. "I'm not in the habit of putting my daughter at risk, Mrs. Queen. I wouldn't say it was okay if it wasn't. Believe me."

Laura swallowed back the urge to respond.

Miss. Sullivan was clearly trying to be nice and in face of who was her daughter's father, she was doing quite well with her attempt.

"I'm not wearing one," Molly's voice drew the elder woman's attention. "See?"

Chloe smothered chuckle. "You heard the woman."

Laura slipped the mask off and made an exaggerated expression of relief, feeling quite proud when her granddaughter giggled. She'd forgotten how wonderful a little girl's giggle could be. "That's better," she said through a smile.

"Would you like something to drink, Mrs. Queen?" Chloe immediately caught the expression on Molly's face and rolled her eyes at the blatant want. "Chocolate?"

Laura chuckled when the child's face split into a smile that flashed all her teeth, then she watched mother stare expectantly at daughter.

Molly's smile dropped a little as she scowled. "Please may I have some chocolate, mommy?"

Laura remembered the time she had when trying to teach Oliver the very same manners and he never liked it, either. "If it wouldn't be too much trouble, Miss. Sullivan."

If Chloe had been anyone else, she wouldn't have picked up on the subtlte emphasis on her name. Laura Queen was a clever one. "Please," she replied with a smile that said she caught on. "Call me Chloe."

"Only if you call me Laura."

"Deal and it's no trouble. I was going to make some for myself. Would you be able to help me carry them back?" Chloe asked and waved her hands. "Only have two hands."

Laura inwardly smirked.

Chloe was a very smart young woman.

 **XOXOXO**

"And you..." Robert laughed loudly. "You were sat there, in the middle of the Wishing Star annual ball, in nothing but your Scooby Doo pants, letting Benji the guard dog lick the cake off your face."

Oliver scowled. It was never fun when his baby stories and photos came out to play. "I know, dad. I was there," and so had half the Star City press population.

His father was still chucking when he topped up their glasses. "Benji was a good dog." A good dog that had been debilitated by artheritis and so had to be put down. The whole family had been upset while Laura had paid for a nice memorial headstone that sat beautifully in the orchard.

"Yep," the younger man sighed fondly and raised his whisky. "To Benji."

"To Benji," and crystal kissed crystal.

Robert looked up at the ceiling, wondering how long it had been since he'd actually sat down with his son and just talked. The news he was a grandfather had him keenly feeling his years and he wondered where the time went.

One minute, he'd been holding a screaming baby and the next, he was pouring that same baby whisky.

"You were such a gorgeous baby, son," he stated, then grinned. "What happened?"

Oliver shot his dad a look that said the sarcasm was not impressive. "Your humour is as about as good as your dancing."

Robert's eyebrows shot up. "I can dance just fine, Oliver Jonas. Your mother enjoys it."

"That's cos mom thinks the sun shines out of your nostrils."

"You mean it doesn't?"

"I truly worry about you, dad."

Robert offered his boy a cigar before getting one for himself. He bit the end off and turned it round, but not before waving it under his nose. "Cubans, boy. Cubans and proper Scottish whisky. Single malt scotch, of course."

Oliver raised his glass again. "To Cubans and single malt."

"I'll drink to that, boy," and once again, crystal kissed crystal.

Oliver took a big sip and let out a small ahhh as the warmth hit him some more. "This..." he shook his glass. "This is really good stuff. Where'd ya get it?"

"From Scotland," Robert replied in a tone that implied it was a stupid question. "Where else do you get good scotch?"

"You know what you are, dad?" Oliver let his head flop to the side so he could look at his father without much effort. "You're a snob. A Scottish scotch whisky snob."

Robert opened his mouth, ready to defend himself, but thought better of it. "Yes, I am. Your great-grandfather worked..."

"His hands to the bone," Oliver finished with a smile. "I know."

"Boy, you don't have the slightest idea," Robert murmured around his cigar.

The younger Queen paused as he thought about it and winced. "Ouch. Guess Robin Hood wasn't your bedtime story."

"Of course it was," his dad said. "It just happened that Robin Hood worked for a distillery where everything was done by hand."

Oliver chuckled. "And the bows and arrows were what? Bottles and fumes?"

"Of course not," Robert looked entirely serious. "They were fists and foreheads. Boy, these modern day bar brawls are what the women did in those days."

"Have you ever seen a bar brawl, dad?"

"Seen em? Oliver Jonas, I started em. When I was at Oxford, the fights we had with Cambridge were..." Robert giggled like a little kid. "There was bloodshed and violence."

Oliver arched a brow.

This was a side of his dad he'd never heard about. "Spill the gossip, dad."

"Well, this one time, I flicked a chess piece at my opponent and it hit him in the lip." Robert's smile increased in size. "I was what you young'uns call a badass. Hear that, son. Your old dad is a badass."

"Yeah," Oliver replied dryly. "You're a real badass."

"I'll have you know I can throw a punch or two!"

"Is that before or after the punches throw you?"

Robert laughed out loud. "I could take you."

Oliver choked on his scotch. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, boy. I could, how you kids say, kick your ass." Yeah, Robert thought, he was cool and hip with his son's lingo.

Oliver had a horrifying image of his dad showing up at Hannah's club, ready to take on the world while wearing his slippers and tube socks. "I believe you, dad," he said, hoping to save everyone from that. "You'd make me look like a pussy."

"Damn straight I would," Robert curled his arm up. "Look at this 24 inch python."

"You know when I said for you not to do stuff? Impersonating the Hulkster is one of them."

The word Hulkster had both men looking at each other for a moment before they both let out loud, gruff grrr's and puffed up their chests. "Hulkamania!"

"Dude," Oliver grinned as he slapped his dad's hand in a high-five. "That match with Quake was so good."

Robert paused. "Fixed?"

His son nodded. "Totally fixed. That bodyslam? No-one could lift that mother."

"You mom had a thing for Lex Luger..." Robert confessed. "Then I introduced her and she slapped him for touching her ass." He paused again. "That was a fun sight."

"Then what?" Oliver asked, his cheeks aching from stopping his laughter. The wrestler got off lightly if his mom had merely slapped him. "You took him outside and showed him your 24 inch pythons?"

"Of course I didn't," his dad managed to appear offended. "I left the press to make him look like a moron. Your mom is your mom, but she's my wife..." He paused again. "Though I did leave her alone with Steve Tyler for an hour. You were conceived a week later..."

Oliver really did choke on his scotch. "What?"

Robert kept a straight face for all of two seconds before laughing at his boy's outrage. "Your mom was already pregnant, son. Though she did confess to having a grope, but I can't complain. I groped Tawny Kitane."

Oliver had to chuckle. "Did you get a slap?"

"Nope!" Robert's smile was everything smug. "I got her husband's car and guitar. Your mom, though son... Your mom is always the belle. The Tawnys, the Cindy Crawfords... Your mom is the one, son. She's so smart."

Oliver was quick to stop his dad before it reached the point where he needed therapy, so he brought up the one thing they'd both avoided all afternoon. "I'm a dad, dad."

Robert kept his smile to himself. "Yes, son. You are." He didn't mention the child's ill health in case Oliver closed up.

"What am I gonna do with a kid?" His distraction technique for his dad became all too real. "What can I offer it?"

His father remained silent. "I've got money, so I can give child support, but that isn't what the mother wants, is it? The mother only wants me for bone marrow. How can I give bone marrow to a stranger's kid?"

Seeing his dad open his mouth to speak, Oliver hastily continued. "I don't know either of them, I don't know how to give bone marrow, I don't know what ALL is..."

Robert focused on doing the perfect inhalation from the perfect cigar, giving his boy the time to really open up.

"I'm just your kid, dad," Oliver said, his gaze now on the amber liquid remaining in his glass. "Everything I could do to make things better, you and mom have already done. Charity funds? Done. Investments? Done. Inventors? Funded. I'm just Oliver, the rich kid who works for his father and doesn't turn up on time."

He knocked back the rest of his scotch. "Not to mention I make women sick if they think I'm the father. So you tell me, dad. What can I do apart from live in the shadow of great-grandfather, grandfather, and you?"

Oliver shrugged. "I'm not really anything, am I dad? I'm just the son of Robert Queen. I've never really done anything to make my mark, you know? I'm not great-granddad or granddad or you. I don't know how to do anything."

Robert looked at his son, really looked, and saw something in his son's face that he'd missed. "Oliver Jonas," he said, shocked at how little his son thought of himself.

"It's fine, dad," Oliver gave another shrug. "I'm used to it."

 **XOXOXO**

How Laura managed to keep from crying, she didn't know. Maybe it was the fact she didn't want Molly to see or maybe she didn't want Chloe to see, or maybe it was because tears and pity were not what was needed.

She walked beside Chloe as she pushed Molly's wheelchair carefully towards a nearby seat outside the hospital. She looked at the tired little girl sitting quietly and enjoying the simple fact of being outside. She thought about her son and cursed the way he seemed to take everything for granted.

She took a deep breath and spoke to Molly, not over her. "Do you like to be outside?" It was only after asking that she realised what a stupid, horrible question that was.

Her granddaughter nodded and familar brown eyes blinked at her. "I'm not allowed out lot," and her voice was muffled by her face mask.

"That's cos you're a menace," Chloe stated fondly as she put the brakes on. "You scare people."

Laura choked back her response when Molly put a hand on her hip and graced her mother with a familair haughty expression. "That's you."

"Say what?"

Then Mrs. Queen realised Chloe was getting her daughter strong enough to fight for herself if and when the time came. "You're quite right, Molly," Laura whispered with a kind smile. "Your mommy scares me and even scared my son."

Molly looked to her mother, her eyes wide. "You scared a _boy_?"

Chloe arched a brow at Laura's subtle yet daring attempt to bring Oliver into the conversation. "He was even taller than me."

"You should pick on people your own size," Molly said, the gleam in those brown eyes was pure Queen.

Laura took a seat next to Chloe and despite having a child of her own, she honestly wasn't sure what to say. Molly Sullivan was a little wise beyond her years and she guessed it was caused by her circumstances.

Reading Mrs. Queen's expression, Chloe started. "Sweetheart, why don't you tell Mrs. Queen about your drawing?"

Face mask or no, both women saw Molly's face light up. "I came second in a competition. I drawed..." and corrected herself when her mother coughed loudly. "I drew a picture of my doctor with funny glasses and a potato nose."

Laura smiled at her enthusiasm. "That's wonderful, Molly. I'd love to see it one day."

"Mommy has it at home."

"Mommy did until aunt Lois stopped by and stole it."

Off Mrs' Queen's quizzical expression, "She's my cousin," Chloe explained. "But we're very close."

"Ahh," Laura understood. "Maybe you can draw another picture just like it for your mom?"

Molly considered it, then shook her head. "I want draw something pretty next time and my doctor isn't pretty."

Mrs. Queen laughed. Oh, she had quite the cheek on her. "And what do you think is pretty?"

The little girl looked exactly like her son when he was deep in thought. Head tilted to one side, wrinkles at the corners of the eyes, and a frown on her forehead. "Gizmo," she answered eventually. "Gizmo is very pretty."

Laura looked at Chloe just in time to see an eye roll. "Gizmo?" She asked.

Molly nodded. "My friend gave me his Gizmo when he got to go home."

"Maybe your friend can come visit and he can help you with your drawing?"

Then she noticed something.

Chloe was twisting her hands together and subtly shaking her head before looking to the ground. It took a moment or two for Laura to realise the implications.

Molly shook her head. "Ben said he was going home to sleep proper. Maybe we can ask his mommy if he can come after he's woken up? Can we mommy?"

Chloe went to say something, but was going say was cut off by a yawn. "Mommy, can we go back inside now?"

"Of course we can, sweetheart. Tell you what," she said. "How about we stop by the shop for some more cocoa?"

Laura had never known a child to turn down cocoa and especially not a child who'd silently pleaded for chocolate mile two hours ago.. Molly shook her head. "Not today, mommy. I'm a sleepy head."

"Well then," Chloe took the brakes off and stood. "Let's get you to bed, slugger."

Laura walked quietly beside them for a short time before speaking in a voice too low for Molly to hear. "Chloe, what did her friend have?"

"Acute Lymphocytic Leukemia," was the clipped response. "Ben's mom couldn't find a donor."

Laura felt her heart drop. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to see a child die of the very same thing her child had. She'd known the illness was serious, but just not how serious.

Laura felt her heart drop. She couldn't imagine what it must be like to see another child die of the very same thing her child had and it hit her hard.

If her son wasn't going to help, then she might be able too. "Being Oliver's mother, maybe I could..."

Chloe shook her head. "You're too old, remember?" she reminded quietly. "My dad and uncle already tried, but they were told the same thing. My cousins aren't a match and Molly is an only child who isn't at the top of the register..."

The elder woman gave a nod of understanding. "That's why you found my son."

"No offense, Mrs. Queen. I _will_ get my daughter's bone marrow if I have to strap him down and suck it out of him with a straw!"

For the second time that day, Laura Queen laughed out loud.

How she wished Oliver had met this woman before that vicious viper known as Tess Mercer. "Chloe, I believe I'd help you."

It didn't take long to reach the Oncology ward and by then, Molly had fallen asleep in her wheelchair. Laura stroked her head and there was no baby soft wisps of hair. It made her want to weep.

Right then, Mrs. Queen made a decision to talk to Oliver and make him see that if he didn't help, the child he never knew would die.


	6. 6

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Rating: R for language used in some chapters.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Chlollie on LJ, FF.net, and whever else I choose to post it!  
Notes: I came up with the idea over sausages and I may be writing it, but a lot of folk have helped. Al, Strom, Gen, and Solo to name but a few. You know who you are :-D

A couple of days later saw Oliver sat in what had to be the best bakery in the world, though he couldn't quite work up the energy to enjoy his pastry or his smoothie, and he didn't know what was more worrying. His lack of appetite or the way one of his buddies were staring at him like he had six heads.

"What?" He asked, having had enough of the staring.

Arthur didn't react and Bart's sandwich paused inches from his mouth. "What do you mean what?"

Oliver's brown eyes rolled. "It's taken ten minutes for you to eat half your sandwich and A.C hasn't blinked since I sat down."

His friends looked at each other, then looked back at their comrade. "Dude," Arthur spoke. "You have a kid."

"No," Oliver drawled. "She's a donkey cleverly disguised as a kid."

His pals didn't look amused and he sighed. "Yes, I have kid. Lots of other guys have kids. It's no big deal."

"You been to see her yet?" Bart asked around a mouthful of club sandwich.

Oliver shook his head and focused on the table top. "I got halfway to the hospital, then turned around and hid in Alfie's for a few hours until they had to call a cab."

"Dude, your mom's gonna string you up," Bart stated after chugging half his soda in a single gulp. "That place is daylight robbery, man."

"Yep," Ollie finally looked up with a helpless smile. "But those Long Islands are long."

"Here, here," A.C raised his water in agreement. "So what are you gonna do about the kid? Molly you said."

Molly.

His kid and the reason he called in the troops. He shrugged. "No clue, man. I mean, this chick just lands on my doorstep and thanks for that, by the way, Bart. _Really_ made my day."

The younger man narrowed his eyes suspiciously before realising. "You hit on her, didn't you?" Not that he mentioned his own involvement. After all, man had his pride.

Arthur silently chuckled. "You dawg!"

Ollie glared until they shut up. One of these days, this would happen to them and then he'd have the last laugh. "No," he lied. "Would you hit on a woman who said she had your kid?"

"I hit on her and she had your kid," Bart confessed. "Did you see those hips?"

"I really wish I could say I'm surprised, but I'm really not." Oliver took a deep breath. "What do you guys know about bone marrow? I mean, I know it's something to do with cancer, but that's about it."

Arthur and Bart's smiles faded into nothing as they shook their heads.

"Sorry, man," Arthur shrugged helplessly. "I've asked at the aquarium, but..."

Bart gave a similar shrug. "Your dad's got me running my ass off, so I haven't had much time to get my Google fix." He frowned. "Or my Match and eHarmony fix. Your dad sucks."

Great. "I'm really gonna have to go down there, aren't I?" Ollie knew he had to go there, but well... Seeing a kid he didn't want or ask for was some scary ass shit.

Arthur would forever hate himself for what he was about to do, but when Oliver Queen got like this, the guy could talk himself into being scared of his own shadow. "You know..." he started, purposely speaking slowly to get the attention he wanted. "Even going to see doesn't hold you to anything. You don't have to do anything. As you say, she's only your kid through a mistake."

He knew he'd hit a mark when his buddy averted his gaze and he smirked. Oh yeah, he was good.

Bart stared at Arthur in disbelief. "That's harsh, dude. Seriously harsh."

A.C returned the look with one that said _play along, fuckwit_.

Oliver was too wrapped up in his thoughts to notice the silent conversation going on in front of him. He let his body flop back against the seat. "This officially sucks," he stated. "My mom's besotted, my dad treats me to endless shots of whisky, and I feel like a sack of shit."

Arthur smirked to himself. He'd hardly needed to say anything before his friend started to get things off his chest. "I thought I could smell something gross."

"Har har," Ollie sneered and threw an empty straw packet at him. "Assbutt. All joking aside, guys. How can I go down there, huh? What the hell am I gonna do with a kid?"

"Help her, maybe?" Bart asked, still oblivious to Arthur's plan.

Oliver couldn't keep from glaring at Bart. "How could I help her? Don't even know what's wrong with her or what bone marrow has to do with it." He ruffled his hair in frustration. "If it was money, not a problem, but it isn't. She wants something from me and I don't how to give it."

A.C bit back the urge to comment on how Ollie was not as bad a guy as he thought. That was something his buddy would have to figure out for himself. He offered up an encouraging smile. "Only one way to find out."

 **XOXOXO**

"And then do you know what she said?" Laura asked as she passed her husband the salt.

"No, you didn't," Robert forced to keep the smile on his face as he seasoned his dinner. For the last couple of days, his wife had been at the hospital and coming home with tales and stories of what Molly had done and said.

It had been endearing for the first few hours, then it got steadily worse until all his wife could talk about was her granddaughter.

"But mommy, she said," and Laura chuckled. "Mommy, I don't know if I want sandy shoes."

Robert resisted the urge to massage his temples, choosing instead to shut himself up with a bit of minted lamb. It wasn't right that he was angry she talked so much about Molly and maybe he was a little jealous that _he_ hadn't been invited to go see her, but neither had Oliver. It felt a little wrong to see his son's daughter when Oliver hadn't seen her first.

Oliver.

The son who had such low esteem because he thought he hadn't done anything with his life apart from work for dad.

It hurt Robert to no end to think how his son saw himself and it angered him to see his wife almost blind to it. Not that he was much better, of course. He'd spent so much energy on trying to ignore Oliver's actions, that he'd unknowingly ignored the hidden sadness.

He felt like a failure, both as a father and friend to his son.

Yet Laura...

Laura seemed to have stars in her eyes when it came to the situation and though he couldn't blame her, he did think she could stand to be brought back to Earth about it.

"Oh, Robert," she said through a smile that reminded him why he fell in love with her. "If you could see her, I know you'd love her just as much."

He put his cutley down and wiped his mouth with his napkin, contemplating what to say and how to say it. Thankfully, he didn't have to start as his wife's expression turned from blatant happiness to concern.

"Bobby?" Laura asked, her brow furrowed. "Is there something wrong?"

"It's Ollie," Robert began and then watched as she paused before nodding. "He's..."

"Not going to do it, is he?" God, that was just too horrible to think about.

He had to blink once or twice. "This has nothing to do with Molly, Laura. It's about Oliver."

"What about Oliver?" Laura quizzed. "I know he hasn't been to see her yet, but I've been trying to get Chloe to say he's welcome."

"Enough about Molly!" Robert exclaimed. Here he was, trying to talk to his wife about their son and all she could think about was someone else's child. He hadn't met the girl and right now, she was not his priority.

"Excuse me?" Laura's frown disappeared as she looked at her husband, part in shock and part in anger. "Don't you _dare_ speak to me like that, Robert Queen."

"I'm trying to discuss our son and all you can think about is..."

"My granddaughter?" She offered, her tone snappish. "My very sick granddaughter who could well die if she doesn't get the help she needs."

"And she won't get the help she needs if you don't listen to what I have to say."

Fine.

He wanted her to listen? Then she'd give him all the listening he could stand because she had a few choice words for him to hear, too.

Laura pushed her plate aside and leaned her chin on her knuckles. "What about Oliver, Bob?"

Her attitude was duly noted and it did nothing to placate his feelings on the subject. " _Our son_ ," he exaggerated. "Our son feels like he's worthless, like he has nothing to offer anyone. Much less his daughter."

Robert took no satisfaction in watching his wife's face go ashen or in hearing her voice go quiet. "He _what_?"

"Feels worthless," he managed, remembering his son's expression. "God, Snoop. Our son feels like he isn't worth anything and all you've done is sit and talk about his daughter."

"Maybe that's what he needs," she pointed out. "Maybe he needs to hear about his daughter and maybe so do you. She's just a child, Bob. A child Oliver can help. We can talk too him, make him understa..."

"No, Laura," Robert remained firm. "We can't. Not this time. Haven't you wondered if Oliver feels worthless because we made it easy for him?"

She closed her eyes and nodded. "Yes, I do."

"We can't make this easy for him, sweetheart. This has to be his decision and not one we can force or guilt him into doing."

Laura opened her eyes and Robert's heartstrings twitched at seeing tears in her beautiful eyes. "She's four years old, Bobby. Four. If she doesn't get a donor in time, she might die at four years old. She hasn't had a chance and if Oliver hears that, then..."

"No," he said, his own eyes growing hot. "I'm sorry, Laura. I won't have Oliver forced to do something he doesn't want to do."

"In that case," she stood and dropped her napkin on her half-finished dinner. "You can be the one to tell Chloe why her daughter is dead. As for Oliver... All I can think about is seeing him at four years old and how the only care he had was what tree to climb next or when Arthur was coming out to play. All we had to care about was what to buy for his fifth birthday and not if he'd live long enough to see it."

"Laura..."

She looked long and hard at her husband before speaking again. "I understand your point of view and I've listened to what you had to say about Oliver and you're right. He does have to grow up, but at the price of a little girl? That we obviously disagree on."

Robert stood. "That's not what I'm saying," he could help raising his voice.

"Then what _are_ you saying?"

"I'm saying..." and he took a breath and lowered his voice. "I'm saying Oliver needs to find out for himself and make his own choice. We can't do this for him, Laura. Not this time. He needs to understand his actions have consequences that we can't always clean up."

"Then what do we do?" Laura asked, her voice showing the first sign of crying and her husband was right there, taking hold of her and stroking her hair.

Robert closed his eyes to stop his own tears from falling. "There's nothing we can do, sweetheart," and that killed him more than a shot to the head ever would.

 **XOXOXO**

Like his mother a couple of days before, Oliver found himself being given a green sticker to show he was cleared for visitation and then got his face mask. It was so overwhelming in so many ways, that he was seconds from running far away.

The terror he felt at going to the hospital was now an intense curiosity and he truly hated that he wanted too know. It was serious enough for every visitor, including parents, to go through the same thing he had and that was enough to tap into his heart more than anything.

He should be here because it was the right thing to do and not because he wanted answers or because of some morbid need to understand.

"Mr. Queen?"

Oliver looked at the woman. "Yes, nurse..."

"Jaques," she replied, her tone a little shrewish and firm. "Charge nurse Jaques, thank you very much and if you'd like to follow me, I'll be happy to show you where to go."

Was it him or was that a subtle hint?

Oliver didn't have time to question it as he was being led down a corridor until a hand came to stop him in his tracks.

"Mr. Queen," she said. "I may warn you that there's nothing on this ward that I don't know about."

He was about to question her, but she beat him to it by smiling in a way that made him think twice. "Enjoy your visit, Mr. Queen," and then she was walking away, leaving him to face his fate alone.

Oliver blew out a breath and he looked at the room he was left in front of and felt dread, but then he heard a little voice.

"Mommy is coming right back, Nemo. She just went to the store to get some stuff and I have to behave."

That little voice was childish in ever sense of the word. It had the high pitched tone of a little girl, yet it was a little slurred and he didn't know if that was because she was tired or the medication she was on.

He took a few steps closer and saw her through the window.

She was so small to him, small and fragile and she had different machines around her, yet there she was. Stroking a toy Nemo and smiling at it like there was nothing wrong.

"Mommy has a new story to write," she told Nemo. "The killer is a kid, but not sick like me, but just real bad like..."

Oliver heard her pause.

"Damien," and he wondered what that harpy was doing showing a four year old The Omen. "But Damien isn't as good as Freddy. I like Freddy. He's funny!"

His expression was one of disbelief as he continued to listen to the little girl talk.

"I like Nancy," she said. "She has pretty hair. It's really curly and brown. If I had hair, I'd want it to be just like hers."

Oliver's face could be set in stone as he realised a four year had been allowed to watch an actual horror film. What kind of mother allowed their young child to watch something like that?

Did Charge Nurse Jaques know this happened on her ward?

He thought not.

"I like it better when Nancy isn't scared of him," she said. "She takes it all back and she isn't scared anymore. It makes me not scared, Nemo. Mommy is, I think, but mommy's not dark and curly like Nancy."

Oliver kept listening.

"Nancy's a good girl and she beats a bad man, but don't tell I like Freddy better. I like his long arms and you can see the ketchup all over, Nemo. It's real funn..."

Then there were two brown eyes looking at him.

Not knowing what else to say or do, he gave her a little wave. "Hi."

She kept silent.

Oliver bit his lip before making the decision to move into her room. "You must be Molly."

She still remained silent.

What the hell did he say to a kid? "Is, uh," he scratched his head. "Is your mom here?"

Molly paused before shaking her head.

"Okay, I'll take that as a no. I see you have Nemo. My friend works in an aquarium," and those brown eyes went wide and he swore she was about to speak, but apparently decided against it.

God, he felt like a total loser.

Oliver inched closer to her bed and watched as she clutched Nemo a little tighter, so he stopped and shoved his hands in his pockets. "My mom comes to see you sometimes."

Brown eyes blinked.

"Laura," he said. "I'm Laura's son. My name is Oliver or Ollie."

Molly frowned a little before whispering to Nemo. "Molly says she isn't supposed to talk to strangers."

Now he felt like a total jackass, but he soldiered on. "Nemo, tell Molly that's good advice."

She offered a shy smile before whispering to her toy. "Molly says you have a green sticker and that means you can take the mask off."

Oliver hesitated, but she made her toy nod. He took the mask off. "Tell Molly I said thank you."

"Molly says you're welcome and she likes Laura and you're not a real stranger, right?"

Oliver struggled to keep a straight face as she tried to find a way to speak to him and still do as she was told. "Tell Molly I'm not a real stranger and that Laura likes her, too."

She looked thoughtful for a moment. "Molly wants to know if your friend really works in an aquaroom."

He rubbed a hand over his face to wipe his laughter away. "Tell Molly Arthur really does work in an aquarium and she can visit if she wants."

Those brown eyes lit right up and she gave him to one of the biggest smile he'd ever seen. "Molly asks if she can really visit? If the doctors said so."

"Tell Molly yes, she can really visit."

Molly gripped Nemo and he watched childish excitement made her bounce a little. "Molly wants to know if there are dolphins and fish and sharks like Jaws."

Oliver couldn't stop the laughter if he tried and he took a seat next to the bed, then reached out to Nemo. She gave it to him and giggled when he whispered to the toy before pointing the face at her. "Ollie says there are lots and lots of fish and some dolphins and sharks."

"Like big, big sharks?" She asked, then slapped her hand over her mouth.

His shoulders shook. She was pretty cool for a kid. "Big, big sharks," he said. "You can see when you come visit."

That little hand fell from her mouth. "Promise I can come visit?"

"Cross my heart," Oliver made an X on his chest. "Does your mom know you watch Jaws?"

Molly's eyes widened. "David has a TV in his room and he lets me watch when mommy goes to the store. You won't tell on me?"

He snorted, remembering how he used to sneak movies inside cartoon boxes and take them to Arthur's. "I promise," he assured in a whisper. "So you like Freddy, huh?"

"Uh-huh, David has all of them and he has Godzilla and King Kong, too, and Doctor Who."

Oliver wondered what her mommy would think if she knew her daughter was a monster movie geek. "You don't like Disney or cartoons?"

Molly thought for a second before answering. "I like The Little Mermaid and Cars and Finding Nemo and Pokemon. Do you like Disney and cartoons?"

Thank God his buddies weren't around to hear this. "I like The Emperor's New Groove and Toy Story and Daffy Duck."

She nodded. "I was s'posed to go watch Jason today, but David isn't feeling very well."

It took Oliver a moment or two to figure out she meant Friday The 13th. She really was a sneaky little thing. "Don't you have a TV of your own?"

Molly shook her head. "Mommy says that I have to share my movies with my friends, but David doesn't move a lot, so he has his own."

He wondered what this David had and chose to nod instead of asking. "Anyway, it's more fun watching movies with my friends." She scowled, "Even if they talk all the way through."

"I know exactly what you mean," Oliver grumbled, scowling himself. Bart and Arthur simply couldn't keep their mouths shut and it was beyond annoying.

Molly fiddled with her bed sheets. "If you want, I can ask David if we can borrow his TV and we can watch Jason and I promise not to talk."

His first response was to say yes, but then if her mom found that not only did he know her four year old watched stuff like that then watched it with her, there'd be hell to pay. Having once been on the end of her simmering temper, he didn't want to risk castration.

"I don't think..." and he face fell as she nodded.

"You're not staying, are you?"

Oliver swallowed when tiny shoulders shrugged. "It's okay. You came to see mommy anyway and she's not here..."

His heart clenched in his chest. "I had to come see if you're as pretty as my mom says you are and you know what?"

Molly perked up at that. "What?"

"You're prettier than what my mom says."

"Then you really came to see me?"

He grinned. "Course I did, kiddo. It's just... Your mommy might not be happy if I let you watch Jason."

Molly gasped. "You said you wouldn't tell!" She was gonna be in so much trouble.

"And he doesn't have too."

 **XOXOXO ******

 **Like all parents, Chloe had panicked when nurse Jaques told her there was a man in Molly's room and had pretty much ran down the hall, only to find Oliver Queen laughing at something her daughter said. Her first instinct was to go in there and stop him from promising a visit to the aquarium, but when Molly started to ask questions and talk to him, she paused.**

 **Then came her daughter's little confession and she was marching toward's David's room, fully intent on snitching him up to his parents.**

 **Chloe poked her head round the door, only to see the twelve year old sound asleep. "Well, damn," she muttered, startling Denise.**

 **"Hey, Chloe," Denise whispered the greeting.**

 **"Your son, the little rugrat, has been letting my daughter watch his movies when I've gone out." There. Let's see how the two sneaks deal with getting caught.**

 **Denise's eyes narrowed and she looked at her sleeping son. "I _knew_ they were upto something when I got back from work yesterday."**

 **Chloe went to say something, but deflated. "Oh, what's the point? They'll just find another way to do it," and the other woman chuckled quietly.**

 **"I am sorry, Chloe, but you know what they're like when they get together."**

 **"Sadly, yes," she sighed. "At least this way, we can moderate it. Somewhat."**

 **"It's the somewhat that worries me," Denise grinned. "I'll have a word with him about more... Appropriate movies."**

 **"Nah," Chloe shook her head. "If it gets Molly's interested enough to get her out of bed, then..."**

 **The other gave her a nod of sympathy. "She still not wanting to do much?"**

 **"She seems to be perking up a bit lately, but I've got Laura to thank for that. Her visits have really put a smile on her face."**

 **"I know what you mean. David was so happy when she brought him a King Kong poster."**

 **"She's a sweetheart, isn't she? Maybe too kind for her own good, I think."**

 **They were about to continue when David stirred and shifted, causing Chloe to smile affectionately. "Family room later? You, me, coffee?"**

 **"Sounds like fun," and they said their goodbyes.**

 **"One down, one to go," Chloe marched back toward her daughter's room and got there just in time to here Molly's gasp. "And he doesn't have too."**

 **It was so much fun to catch her daughter in the act.**

 ****XOXOXO** **

Oliver quickly stood up, ready to defend his presence. Crap, crap, crap. "I was just... I mean I wasn't gonna..."

Chloe arched a brow at seeing the oh so suave playboy look the bumbling fool. "You weren't going to what? Tell how my daughter has been sneaking off to watch inappropriate movies or you weren't going to let her watch one?"

"Neither! I mean my mom said it would be okay if I came to see her and I didn't know she was doing that."

 _Yeah, Queen, you're real smooth_.

Chloe folded her arms. "So you weren't going to tell me what my daughter was doing," and glanced said innocent little girl.

"No, well... Yes!"

"You were going to snitch on me?" Molly gasped. "You promised."

Oliver looked at those big brown eyes shining with accusations. "No!"

"Liar, liar, pants on fire."

"You're in trouble, Molly Anne, not Mr. Queen," Chloe stated firmly. "Now apologise or you won't any treats and you'll be going to bed early."

Ollie took in Chloe's stance and instantly recognised it. He'd seen it on his mother and as such, he was an expert in getting out of it. He gave Molly a quick wink and his most charming smile before turning to Chloe with that smile in place. "Of course I was going to tell you," he said. "What kind of responsible grown-up would I be if I didn't?"

Seeing it wasn't working in the slightest, Oliver started glancing towards Molly and tried to get a message across.

"You were?" She asked, rolling her eyes. "That's very grown-up of you. Molly?"

Oliver sighed and looked to the little girl. "Sorry, kiddo. I tried."

Her shoulders slumped, knowing she'd been well and truly caught. "It's okay, Ollie. I made you promise and it isn't your fault you have to be a grown-up."

"When David's feeling better, you're going to apologise to him."

Molly's jaw dropped. "You told on him?"

Chloe nodded. "I did. You shouldn't put people in trouble, sweetheart. It isn't fair. You'll still be allowed to watch your monster movies, but..." and she raised her hand to prevent her daughter from talking. "You will be monitored by either myself or David's mom. Am I understood?"

There was silence before a little voice was heard. "Yes, mommy."

Chloe reached over to stroke her daughter's smooth head. "Good girl."

Oliver felt invisible as he watched mother and daughter interact, but there wasn't much he could do. Well, apart from chuckle when Molly brightened.

"So can I borrow David's TV? Ollie said he'll watch Jason with me."

"No, you can't. No TV for a week until I feel like you've learned your lesson."

"But you just said..."

Chloe raised her hand and Molly quickly shut up. "You can still watch your movies, but not for a week or until I say." She glanced at Oliver. "That goes for you, too."

His eyes widened innocently. "I can't watch TV for a week? Man, that's harsh."

Despite their previous meeting, she found herself chuckling. "Nope and just for the attitude, you can come help put the groceries away."

"But Ollie didn't do anything wrong, mommy!" Molly looked at her mom, hoping she could get her new friend out of trouble. "I was naughty, not Ollie."

Oliver watched Chloe bite her lip and had a feeling she was about to give in. Remembering the trouble his mom had with him, he knew that if a parent gave an inch, the kid would take a mile. "I was naughty too, Molly. I wasn't gonna tell on you, remember? If I do something naughty, I'm not allowed to go to the aquarium."

She shot him a look of surprise and gratitude. "That's right, Molly. No TV for a week or no trip out."

The little girl pouted, but nodded. "Okay, no TV for a week."

Oliver felt quite proud of himself. "I'm gonna help your mom put the groceries away and if you want, I can come back."

Molly merely nodded. "Okay."

"Come on," Chloe gestured to the door and lowered her voice. "She'll be fine by the time we get back. She just likes to sulk for a while."

Oliver hesitated, but followed the mother's advice, yet couldn't leave without saying one thing. "Five minutes tops, kiddo."

Another tiny nod and Chloe's lips narrowed, but there wasn't anything to do when her daughter got into a sulk except let her get on with it. "The groceries await," she said loudly. "If you're lucky, I may even make you a hot chocolate."

Magically, Molly's sulking faded a bit and Oliver caught a little gleam in those brown eyes.

She was such a little sneak.

 **XOXOXO**

"This is the family room, Mr. Queen," Chloe stated and dropped the few bags on the table.

Oliver looked around and whatever he was expecting, this was not it.

There were a few sofas in the middle of the room, a couple of armchairs to one side, and a small kitchen at the back of the room. It was like a home of sorts or a common room in a backpacker's hostel, and the thought of Chloe living here was humbling.

"It's not what you're used too, I know, but..."

"I didn't say anything."

"You didn't have too."

Oliver shook his head. "It's just... People live here?"

Chloe really looked at him and wanted to slap herself. He was only curious, nothing more or less. She tried to make up for her horrible comment with a smile. "Some of us don't live too close to the hospital, so we spend most of our time here and go home once or twice a week."

He was still looking around and was surprised to see a saucepan of milk on the hob. He didn't think people made cocoa the proper way anymore and it was nice to see. "What about..."

No, it was rude to ask that.

"What about what?"

"Nothing," he muttered. "Never mind."

She set a large jar of coffee down on the table. "What?"

"Bathing?"

Chloe couldn't help but laugh at his expression. Poor guy looked so out of place, that she didn't have the heart to be sarcastic. "There's a bathroom with a small shower through that door. Cleanliness isn't something we can skimp on, I'm afraid."

Oliver felt his face grow hot. Of course cleanliness would be important. In an effort to cover up his discomfort, "Here, let me take that," and grabbed a few things from a bag. "Where do they go?"

"Under the sink, thanks." She focused on taking out the rest of the groceries. "I didn't expect to see you, Mr. Queen."

"I didn't expect you to see me," he confessed as he knelt down to put the stuff away. He glanced over his shoulder at Chloe, taking in the droop of her shoulders and slight curving of her spine. He thought to her words about some of the parents basically living here and he didn't think she'd be one of them.

Given how devoted she was to Molly, he would have thought she'd live close enough to not have to sleep here, but obviously that wasn't the case.

Oliver stood and walked back to the table, ready for more things to put away. "You shouldn't stand like that," he said, hoping she wouldn't take offense.

Chloe glanced at him. "I'm sorry?"

"Your spine's curving. You should stand straighter."

It took a few seconds for her to click onto the fact he'd noticed her bad posture. "Benefits of being hunched over a keyboard for six hours a day." Seeing the questions, "I'm an author and sadly being hunched for six hours a day for over eight years is taking a toll."

She straightened herself up a little. "Better?"

Oliver looked her over and shook his head. "You're straightening the wrong parts. I've done yoga since I was a teen. Here, lemme show you..."

Chloe watched as he stood in a certain way and her eyebrows rose when his height seemed to increased by a good inch or two.

"It's about elongating the spine. Try it."

She copied as best she could and pressure between her shoulder blades quite literally popped like air bubbles. She gave him an impressed look. "Not bad. Thank you."

Oliver grinned, pleased he was coming across as a decent person this time. "You're welcome."

Chloe shook her head and tried to keep the position while she finished unpacking. "I've got to say," she began lightly. "I didn't expect to see you."

He noticed she didn't look at him as she spoke. "I didn't expect to be here."

"Why are you?"

"Curiosity," Oliver replied just as lightly. "Answers. I don't know..."

"Anything?" Chloe offered, finally looking at him. "Like how I was when I first found out she was sick. Like you have all these directions and don't know where to turn?"

He nodded. "Yeah."

Chloe paused for a moment and chose her words carefully. "I understand why you were before. I mean, I had all these pre-conceived notions about you and..."

"I proved you right, didn't I?" Oliver grimaced. "Yeah, about that."

She waved his apology off. "You don't need to explain, Mr. Queen. Your business is your business. I used your friends too get to you and I sort of knew what Bart was doing to have you see me."

Bart, huh?

"How come Bart gets Bart and I get Mr. Queen?"

Green eyes blinked. "I'm sorry?"

Brown eyes rolled. "You haven't once called me Oliver or Ollie, it's always Mr. Queen, but my friend gets Bart."

Chloe pursed her lips and tilted her head to one side. "You haven't called me anything."

Oliver opened his mouth, ready to retort, but realised she was right. To cover his tracks, he put on his most charming smile again and held out his hand. "Chloe, right? You say you write? Can't say I've heard anything..."

She didn't look at all impressed. "That's because I don't write under my name."

"Not working, is it?"

Chloe gave him a smile of total amusement. "Not one little bit. Sorry _Oliver_ , Joey Tribianni you are not."

"Gee, thanks," and rolled his eyes. "So, about the aquarium..."

She took a breath. "If you don't intend to keep your promises, then please don't make them, Oliver. She's just a kid."

"No, no," he was quick to stop that thought. "I meant will she be allowed? Cos she said only if the doctors said so. I know Arthur wouldn't mind."

Chloe went to say something, but stopped and when she looked at him, he saw just how tired she was. "Her immune system isn't very good and she isn't often allowed outside for a little walk, much less a trip out. You don't know anything about her or her illness. Learn about that first because if you promise and then get scared or decide it's too much, she'll be the one in tears."

She saw his expression and felt awful. "It's not personal, Oliver. I swear. I just don't want my daughter hurt."

He nodded. "I understand," he said and he did.

It was now down to him.


	7. 7

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Sunscorched  
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk  
Rating: Rated for language and implied sexual situations.  
Category: AU  
Content: Chlollie  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: Anyplace.  
Notes: Dedicated to Slytherinpunk. Big, giant THANK YOU to Al, Solo, and Strom for helping me and reading it over.

 

Seeing Oliver sat behind his desk and in his chair was a bit of a surprise for Robert, especially since it was before 9 in the morning and was focused on the computer screen while jotting down the occasional note.

"Ahem," Robert coughed, gesturing to his occupied chair.

"Oh, hey, dad," Oliver half greeted, then looked properly at the man who was stood watching him and grimaced with realisation. "Tax time again, huh?"

The elder Queen went to look at the screen, but his son mimised the window and wrote down the site. He narrowed his eyes in suspicion. "It's not _porn_ , is it?"

What?

Oliver shook his head. "No, dad, it's not," and lowered his voice to a whisper. " _Porn_."

Robert may have nodded, but still looked suspicious. He knew what young men got upto these days. "Of course it isn't, son," he smiled. "So what are you looking at?"

"Just a couple of stuff for Molly," and the admission made the elder man's eyebrows touch his hairline.

So that was both his wife and son with visitation rights. "Last I heard, Miss. Sullivan and yourself weren't on the best of terms."

Oliver gave a little shrug. "We got off on the wrong foot is all. Bygones. Did I tell you what Molly's been doing when Chloe goes out?" He chuckled. "She's such a sneak, dad."

Robert's smile was tight. "That's nice you've made up."

"No, seriously," his son said, still laughing quietly. "Molly's been sneaking out to watch horror movies, so I'm just looking for stuff for her." That and reading up on ALL, but he wasn't quite ready to say that just yet.

He wanted some time to absorb just what it was and what Chloe wanted from him, and he wanted to make the decision himself without any interference from anyone. Oliver had always rolled his eyes when women said it was their body and they'd do what they wanted to it, but he was beginning to understand.

It was his body and bone marrow, and no-one was going to tell him what to do or not to do with it. Yeah, he'd only skimmed the surface when it came to leukemia and the transplant itself, but what he'd learned clearly said it was not a decision to take lightly. There was so much to it, so much to consider, so many questions that required answers.

Oliver knew Chloe would be willing to answer those questions, but she hadn't been able to take the easy route, so why should he? Besides, he wanted to do it himself and though it hadn't really sunk in yet, Molly was his daughter, too.

"When did you go see Molly?" Robert asked, his tone light. It didn't seem very fair that he hadn't been invited.

"Yesterday and the day before," his son answered before grinning. "She's a pretty cool for a kid. You have to hear about the sandy shoes. When Chloe told me..."

"I've heard all about the sandy shoes from your mother."

Oliver's grin faded a little at his father's slightly raised voice. "What's wrong, dad?"

"Nothing, son. I'm glad you're taking an interest in your daughter," _and my granddaughter_. "Only do it if you're sure."

His son fidgeted with the pen in his hands for a moment, not wanting to confess just yet, but knowing his dad was looking out for him. Much the same way Chloe was looking out for Molly. "I'm reading up on ALL," he got out and looked at his father. "I can't just... I can't, dad. Not yet. I need to know first."

Robert bit back the urge to ask for an invitation. His son's welfare was foremost at the moment. "That's good and you should always get your facts before you make a decision like this. I'm proud of you, Oliver Jonas."

Oliver straightened up at hearing those words. "Yeah? I know I haven't been son of the year, but..."

His father waved that off. "You'll get there, son," he said and sat in front of his desk. "So, you saw Molly?"

"Yeah. I went after work yesterday. Didn't stay long because she was tired. Tried to stay awake, but..." Oliver gave a shrug. "She was out like a light in under ten minutes. Chloe looked tired herself, so I made myself scarce."

Robert watched as deep thought caused his son to frown. "Molly didn't seem to eat much, either. Wikipedia said children with ALL have decreased appetites, but nibbling on toast is more than a decreased appetite, right?"

"I wouldn't know, Oliver."

Oliver tapped his fingers on the desk. "You think she'd be allowed a burger? From McDonald's, I mean. No kid can resist the Golden Arches, right? Course she'd have everything on it and going large for 40 cents won't break the bank, so Chloe can't complain I'm spending too much."

Robert took a deep breath and counted to ten before smiling pleasently. "Molly must quite a little character. When did you get the invitation to go see her?"

"I didn't. I just... Turned up..." Oliver paused long enough to chuckle again. "At either the wrong or right time. Her mom caught Molly making me promise not to tell about the movies. We're not allowed TV for a week."

Seeing his father arch a brow, "It's either no TV for a week or no trip to the aquarium... Which, as it turns out, might not actually be possible. Something that sucks ass cos I promised and she was real excited about the sharks. I'll talk to Arthur about the place, see if he can do something on his side." He frowned again. "I just don't wanna disappoint her, you know?"

"To be honest, son. No, I wouldn't know." Robert grumbled almost petulantly. "I don't actually know anything because I haven't been invited to see her."

Oliver opened his mouth to say something, but then he noticed his father's lower lip was slightly extended. He took a closer look, "Dad, are you pouting?"

Robert quickly rearranged his expression. "No, I'm just a little annoyed that Miss. Sullivan hasn't seen fit to invite her daughter's grandfather."

He was a little taken aback by his father's easy use of the familial term. "Have you asked if you can go see her?"

"Well, no." Robert shifted uncomfortably, "But that's no excuse! Miss. Sullivan could have told your mother or yourself that I was allowed to go visit. I bet Miss. Sullivan's father gets to go see her."

Oliver bit back the urge to laugh.

His father was jealous and he wanted to see how much.

"I don't know much about Molly's grandpa..." He stopped to laugh. "Comes out grampa, but I go off topic. Of course he's been to see her, don't think it's often because he's a plant manager at Lexcorp. Early mornings and late evenings in a fertiliser plant? Not great for an Oncology ward, given the rules."

Robert's pout turned into a scowl and Oliver pretended not to notice as he kept talking. "They're really strict on that stuff, you know? Especially since the swine flu epidemic. A green sticker means you can take the mask off. Or at least that's what Molly says."

"Well, isn't that nice for _grampa_?"

Oliver couln't help it.

He laughed loudly and grinned. "Just go see her, dad. She doesn't get many visitors, so she'll be so happy to have someone else see her."

"I haven't been invited," Robert pointed out.

"I wasn't, either," Oliver confessed through his grin. "I just turned up two days ago and got myself banned from watching TV for a week. It was either that or no..."

"Or no trip to the aquarium?" Robert had to smile despite the rather childish jealousy he felt. "I can't just turn up out of the blue."

"Why not? Visitors are always welcome and the aren't any set hours." Oliver couldn't help the tightness in his chest. "Because of the type of illness the kids have, the open hours make it easier for family and friends to visit."

Being a father, the meaning behind Oliver's word hit him where it hurt and he winced. "I'd still feel rude, son."

"Want me to talk to Chloe?"

"No, no," Robert offered a smile. "I want to be invited because I'm wanted to be seen."

Oliver rolled his eyes and stood up. His dad could be such a moron at times. "Okay," he patted his dad on the shoulder. "I better get going if I wanna beat the traffic. That road sucks."

"So I can have my desk back?"

"Only until the porn starts downloading. Later, dad."

Robert Queen didn't know how fast to move and make sure his son was not using the business line for porn.

 **XOXOXO**

The drive to the hospital was quiet for Oliver as he thought about what he'd learned about Molly's illness and what it meant, and the one thing that stood out was the lack of appetite. She wasn't just a small kid, but she was thin and he guessed it wasn't only because of her leukemia.

He'd been there for a solid four hours yesterday and she hadn't even nibbled on a snack or asked for a cookie or anything and that wasn't right for a four year old. At four, he remembered asking every ten minutes for cookies or some cake or ice cream and when he was told no, he'd go sneak some.

Oliver chuckled as he recalled getting caught eating his mom's apple pie with his hands. He wasn't sure what had his mom more horrified. The fact a five year managed to climb up onto a kitchen counter or the lack of cutlery.

Then his chuckle started to fade as he also recalled his mom putting the blame onto Arthur's influence. It had been down to him and no-one else, yet he'd stood there and kept quiet.

Guilt irrationally crept up and he winced.

God, he'd been such a jackass of a kid and not much better as an adult, if he was honest with himself.

A sign known the world over caught his eye and Oliver thought for all of two seconds, before flipping on the indicator lights and making a sharp turn. Angry drivers be damned, he was a man with a plan.

It took a short while until it was his turn at the drive-thru.

"What can I get you, sir?"

What did Molly like? The site said high calorie food was a good choice. "Um... I'll have three Big Macs, everything on em, three chocolate milkshakes, and one chocolate ice cream. Large em up for me, will ya? Thanks, dude," and handed over his credit card.

"Thank you for your order, sir. Have a nice day."

Oliver grinned and went to the collection point. He'd have to hurry to the hospital or the fries would get cold. He could easily get quarters from the hospital gift shop.

 **XOXOXO**

"Knock, knock," Oliver popped his head into Molly's room and frowned. There was Chloe, but no Molly. "Aren't you missing something? Little kid, about yay tall?"

Chloe rolled her eyes and clicked 'save' before setting her laptop aside. "She's powdering her nose."

Ahh.

"Can I?"

"No, you can stand there and wait your turn." Her straight face only lasted until Oliver sneered and she laughed. She'd never thought for one second Oliver Queen would ever be a fan of sarcasm. "Sure and what is that I can smell?"

"Oh? You mean this?" He held up a large grocery bag. "This is lunch. I was hungry and since it'd be rude to eat when in company, I figured you gals wouldn't mind joining me. It's just a couple of things."

Green eyes looked from the McDonald's bag to his innocent face. "A couple of things, huh? What would those _couple of things_ be?"

Oliver shrugged. "Just a couple of burgers and shakes and... Maybe an ice cream for Molly."

It wasn't that his explanation didn't sit right with her or that she wasn't grateful for the lunch, but... There was something in his voice that screamed out he was lying about something. "Maybe an ice cream for Molly?"

"Okay, so definitely an ice cream for Molly. Chocolate, of course. All little girls like chocolate ice cream."

"I didn't."

"Then it's a good thing I didn't buy it for you, isn't it?"

Oliver and Chloe smiled at each other, appreciating the easy banter and common ground they'd found.

She took the bag from him just as Molly came out of the lavatory, rubbing her eyes with the back her hand, then saw her friend. "Ollie! Did you remember to bring the pictures?"

He had to laugh at her excitement. "I did remember the pictures, but a little bird told me you haven't been eating properly."

"That's cos I'm not hungry."

Chloe forced herself to keep quiet as she watched them interract. She might get to find out what Oliver was upto and why he was lying.

He gave the girl a simple smile that said more than any word ever could and Chloe got a feeling she was going to see her daughter get conned by a professional. "Then you won't want a McDonald's," and sighed before glancing at Molly's mom. "I guess that's more for us."

Intrigued, Chloe played along. "I guess so... We split the third milkshake and half the ice cream and Big Mac?"

"Yep! Coming to the family room?"

Both pretended not to see Molly's widening eyes as she began to plead. "But I like McDonalds and milkshakes! I can have the third one!"

Oliver looked so damn innocent. "But if you're not hungry, then the burger will only go to waste..."

She shook her head rapidly. "It won't, Ollie. I swear. I'll eat it all. Promisepromisepromise."

He shot an amused Chloe a sly glance. "Think we can believe her?"

"I don't know..." she thought aloud, but seeing the begging on her daughter's face was just too much. "I think we can believe her."

"Just in case..." Oliver continued and slipped the small pile of pictures out of his back pocket, making sure the quarters clinked loudly. "For every bite you have, you get one photo and a quarter."

He ignored the look Chloe was now giving him and focused on Molly. "There's a jar in that bag so you can save your quarters to spend at the aquarium gift shop."

Okay, so ignoring Chloe was getting pretty difficult. He could freaking feel that death glare stripping the skin from his bones. He had to let her know he'd been reading and learning and that he wasn't entering into this with his eyes closed. "I've read lots of stuff about burgers and you know what? Burgers are best thing for a little girl like you to eat."

Chloe swallowed back the thick lump in her throat as she deciphered what he was telling her. He had listened to her, really listened, and he was still here and making an effort to know about Molly and ALL.

She blinked away the tears and the relief pushed the hell away from her heels.

Oliver was giving her hope and from here on out, she'd deny him nothing.

Molly nodded and was only too happy to agree. "Mommy, Ollie says burgers are good for little girls like me and he said yesterday that I'd be allowed to watch TV again if I ate it all."

He gaped.

He said no such thing, but if it got her to eat...

Oliver nodded and agreed. "I did."

Did they think she was stupid? "Of course you did," Chloe said with a knowing smirk. She'd teach her child not to lie one way or another. "Molly, sweetheart? Get yourself into bed. You've got one whole, large Big Mac to eat."

"Okay!"

Oliver rubbed his hands together. "Lunch time for Ollie."

Molly giggled as she got herself comfortable and pulled the sheets up over her legs. "Lunch time for Molly."

Chloe shook her head and began to get the stuff out out of the bag, the smell of fast food making her stomach rumble.

Oliver arched a brow as he sat in the seat on the left side of the bed and propped his feet up. "Hungry, Chloe?"

"I sometimes forget to eat when I work," she explained as she passed a burger to her daughter. "Give that to Ollie, please sweetheart. Good girl."

Oliver took it graciously. "Thank you," and she smiled shyly. "You said you're a writer."

Chloe gave Molly her own burger and fries, and took enjoyment at the expression on her little face. "TV if you eat it all, remember?"

Victory for mothers everywhere, she wanted to shout and sat in the seat on the right side of the bed. "I am," she replied to Oliver's question. "No, you're not getting any clues."

"She writes bad people who do bad things and go to jail," Molly supplied helpfully as she unwrapped her burger.

"You little snitch!" Chloe hissed to the kid would not be getting any trust fund or inheritance.

Oliver chuckled. "Crime's good. My dad reads a lot of crime novels."

Chloe was chewing and therefore unable to stop Molly from talking. With her mouth full, no less. "My mommy writes the best ones, Ollie."

"Bite number one, so one picture and one quarter for your jar," he said to keep Chloe from interrupting. "Do you know your mommy's name?"

Molly swallowed. "Um-hm, but am not s'posed to tell."

Oliver gave the little girl his biggest pout. "Please? I'll give you two extra quarters for your next bite...?"

Chloe choked on a piece of lettuce. "You're _bribing_ my daughter?"

He simply shrugged. "Just using my resources. Whaddya say, kiddo? Two extra quarters and two extra photos if you tell me your mommy's name."

Molly looked unsure, so he stepped up a notch. "You've already had one bite, so that's one quarter and one photo. You give me your mommy's name, then you'll have three photos and three quarters to spend at the gift shop. They sell goldfish there, you know? A few more bites and you would be able to buy a goldfish of your very own..."

"Can I call it after mommy's name?"

Oliver grinned winningly at Chloe, who seemed to be planning his untimely death. "Only if you tell me her name..."

Molly giggled. "Rumplestiltskin!"

"What?" He exclaimed and Chloe laughed heartily when he shot her a dirty look.

Her daughter was so getting a trust fund and inheritance.

"You don't know the story?" Molly asked, her brown eyes wide. "Rumplestiltskin says the Queen can keep her daughter if she guesses his name in three days and she doesn't get it right and then she does and Rumplestiltskin is never seen again."

Oliver pretended not to hear Chloe's constant chuckling. He needed to save face with his daughter. "So I have to get your mommy's name in three days?"

Molly frowned. "What about my two extra quarters and pictures?"

Chloe patted her chest and wiped her eyes, the occasional chuckle still sounding out. "I'm sorry," she tried and failed to be apologetic. "You got yourself into this, Oliver. You can get yourself out."

He pulled a face that made Molly giggle. "Okay," he stated, still trying not to look like he'd been conned by a kid, much less his own. "Instead of three days, how about three guesses and I get clues."

"Do I still get my extra quarters?"

"Molly," Oliver held Chloe's gaze. "For this, you get two whole dollars."

The little girl gasped. "Two whole _dollars_? Mommy, mommy, can we play the Name Game? If he gets it right, I get two dollars."

"What's the Name Game?"

 **XOXOXO**

"Molly, is he peeking?"

"Are you peeking, Ollie?"

He wanted to laugh, but managed not too. "No, I'm not peeking."

"No, mommy. He's not peeking."

"Are you sure?"

Molly waved her hand at the back of Oliver's head and when he didn't react, "Yes, mommy."

Oliver coughed to cover up his laughter when he felt two pairs of eyes watching him. "Can't see anything, girls. Cross my heart," then he heard some paper rustle and the uncapping of a pen, closely followed by the sound of said pen moving on top of a solid surface.

"He can look now, sweetheart."

Having the most important job, Molly took it seriously and tapped Oliver on the shoulder, and spoke with the voice of a girl double her age. "You can turn around now, Ollie."

"Thank you," and he turned around only to find a Post-It attached to his forehead.

Molly nodded in satisfaction. "You get twenty questions and three guesses, but if you don't get it right, can I still have the two dollars?"

Despite having a piece of yellow paper partially in his line of sight, Oliver smiled. "Course you can, Fishcake."

Two dollars was a small price to pay for being part of this.

Chloe was sat right on the other side of him, her arms folded and a gleam in her eye. "First question, Mr. Queen..."

Oh, he recognised a challenge when he saw one.

Oliver winked at his daughter before deciding what to ask. "Am I a boy?"

Molly shook her head. "No, Ollie. 19 questions left and 3 guesses."

Well, didn't that narrow it down?

"Do I have books published?"

His daughter nodded. "Yes, 18 questions left and three guesses."

Chloe's smile was beautiful, Oliver noticed. All teeth and rounded cheeks and genuine. She was trying to silently tell him something, but what? "Am I well known?"

Not fully understanding, Molly looked to her mom. "Mommy, are you well-known?"

He kicked himself and vowed to phrase his questions in an easier way.

"Well-known means being very famous and having a lot of people know who you are," Chloe explained. "The answer is no, but I do have a small cult following who appreciate the details."

Molly nodded. "No, Ollie. 17 questions left and three guesses."

Now, he was really starting to think.

Chloe was definitely trying to tell him something and for the life of him, he honestly couldn't work out what it was. A female crime novelist with a cult following who appreciate the details? "I wish my dad was here," Oliver muttered, his brain ticking over. "Do I have more than 10 books published?"

Molly shook her head. "No. 16 questions left and three guesses."

Damn!

He scratched his head, then noticed Chloe mouthing something to him.

Eeee-orrr Ohlwed? "Eyore Ohlwed?"

Chloe's expression would have had made him laugh, except it was directed at him and clearly said _dumbass_.

Molly shook her head. "No. 15 questions left and two guesses."

All he'd have to do is reach up and take the Post-It off his head, and he'd know, but he couldn't do it. It'd be cheating and it was plain to see Chloe was bringing their daughter up proper, so no. He wasn't gonna cheat at all.

Oliver concentrated on what Chloe had said and not what she tried to mime. He went over that information, this time taking out the unnecessary. Female crime novelist, less than ten books, cult following, details.

There was something, but he couldn't put his finger on it, and so he chose his next question carefully. "Do I..." He began, the saw how both Chloe and Molly leaned forward at the same time.

The kid might have the Queen looks and his mannerisms, but she was all Sullivan with her actions.

Oliver kept his humour to himself. "Do I..." and they both wore the same expression and he couldn't do it to them anymore. "Do I have a special line that I use in all of my books?"

Chloe did a weird gesture with her eyes that he figured was meant to say he was on the right track.

Molly giggled. "Yes. 14 questions left and two guesses."

Oliver started snapping his fingers. It was on the tip of his tongue and damn if he could remember the damn name. "Aw, man! I know it! I swear it's on the tip of my tongue!"

Chloe started to laugh. "I always am!"

He was too busy to appreciate the double entendre. "I know you, dude. Man, I do know you, Chlo! I swear I do!"

"C'mon, Ollie," Chloe encouraged, a grin the size of Texas on her face.

"Aw...!" Oliver kept snapping his fingers as though it would help. "Do I have a book called Death By Chocolate?"

"I helped my mommy write that," Molly grinned proudly, then slapped a hand over her mouth and spoke with a muffled voice. "Yes. 13 questions left and two guesses."

Chloe and Oliver looked at each other and burst out laughing.

"Just a shot in the dark here," Oliver wheezed through his laughter. "But am I Esther Allred?"

Molly lowered her hand. "Yes. Sorry, mommy. I snitched."

Chloe wiped her eyes for the second time that day. "Sweetheart, you're going to get four dollars for that. Two from Ollie and two from me."

Brown eyes turned saucer wide. "Four dollars?" She asked in awe and turned to Oliver. "How many goldfish can I get for four dollars?"

He knew right then and there he didn't have a hope in hell of denying her anything.

"Fishcake," Oliver said to his daughter while looking at her mom. "You can have as many goldfish as you want."

Chloe saw the slippery slope Ollie was on and stepped in. "No, you can have as many goldfish as four dollars will buy you and no more."

Molly pouted. "But Ollie said..."

Oliver knew what she was doing and remembered having it done to him when he was a kid. "You buy as many goldfish that four dollars will allow and your mom and I will buy the food and the bowl." He looked at Chloe and hoped she'd accept the compromise.

Chloe didn't see any compromise.

All she saw were two sets of big brown eyes looking at her hopefully, and she didn't have the heart to give in. "Okay, okay," and held her hands up in defeat. "You can buy your goldfish and Ollie and I will buy the bowl and food."

Oliver watched Molly reach over to give her mom a hug and he realised that if he was going to give his bone marrow, then he wanted Molly to know he was her dad.


	8. 8

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Me  
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk  
Rating: M for language and implied sexual situations  
Category: AU  
Content: Chlollie  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nixies.  
Distribution: Here, there, everywhere LOL  
Notes: This chapter is dedicated to Joyblue. A big, giant thank you to Al, Solo, and Strom for their much appreciated help because this chapter kicked my lily ass! Ladies, I raise my teacup in gratitude :-D

Chapter 8...

Mr. Green had always been one of Oliver's favourite people.

He was a portly man with eyes wrinkled through laughter and lips permanently turned up through constant smiling. Hair that had once been a dark brown was now speckled with grey and Oliver had the urge to make a witty comment, but refrained.

After all, the good doctor was the one who held the needles and it wouldn't be good sense to anger the man.

"Good to see you, doc," Oliver shook the man's hand.

"Not good to see you," Henry grinned as he sat down, seeing the nervousness coming off his client and frowned. Never in all his years had he known Oliver to be this nervous. "Sit down, please."

The younger man rubbed his hands against his thighs and sat down, not exactly sure where to start.

"What can I do for you, son?" Henry kept smiling even as he studied his patient.

Oliver cleared his throat and dove in. "See, there's this girl," he began. "She's four and she's mine."

If there was one thing Henry was not expecting to hear, it was that.

He'd always known Oliver to practice safe sex and to hear that there may have been a mistake was quite the surprise. He gave the boy a chance to continue before bringing up any possible medical issues.

"I, ah, donated some sperm a few years ago and instead of it being thrown out, it was used." Oliver hurried on before his doctor said anything. "My kid has leukemia, doc. She needs a bone marrow transplant. I wanna give it to her."

Now that was something Henry Green was not expecting from Oliver.

"So, here I am," Oliver continued and slapped his thighs as though the act would give the Go sign. "Let's do this," and then silence descended as his doctor looked at him.

Instead of smiling and getting ready to take his marrow, his doctor was basically staring at him. "Well? Are we gonna get this done?"

Henry sat back in his chair and regarded the boy heavily. "Do you know what bone marrow is?"

"Yeah, course I do" he said as he shifted. "It's the stuff in the bones, right? The fatty stuff?"

"There's a little more to it, but yes," Henry said. "That's right."

Oliver made a gesture with his hands. "You can test with the blood. So, take the blood and get the party started."

The doctor had to smile at the boy's enthusiasm and he didn't want to disappoint him. "First," he began as gently as he could. "I want to congratulate your generosity, Oliver. Bone marrow isn't something a lot of people think of donating and nor is it a pleasent process."

"Yeah, yeah," Oliver waved that away. "She's my kid, doc. She doesn't know that yet, but that's just details. Can we get to the blood taking?"

Henry inwardly chuckled. Of course paternity would be just details. "I can't just take your blood and hand you bone marrow in a bottle. I wish I could, but I can't."

"Then what _can_ you do?"

Seeing a client's frustration was never nice, much less from soneone he'd come to think of as family. "I can ask what type of leukemia your child has."

Oliver struggled to keep the frustration at bay. "Acute lymphocytic leukemia."

The doctor frowned a little. "She's four, you said."

"Yeah, four years old, so she needs this and I can give it to her."

Henry sighed. "While I'm neither an oncologist or a specialist, I can tell you that eighty percent of ALL children go into remission, but if..."

Oliver held up a hand. "You said a but, doc. What's the but?"

"If she needs a bone marrow transplant, then she's either high risk for a relapse or she has already relapsed."

What? "What do you mean? Like this could be her second time with it?" Chloe never mentioned any of this, but then again, he'd never really asked.

"Where ALL is concerned, a bone marrow is only considered when the patient has a high risk of relapsing," Henry explained, keeping his voice soft and easy. "It's not so much as a case of first or second times, son."

He'd deal with this bit of information when he next saw Chloe. "She needs me, doc. She has no siblings and Chloe's cousins weren't a match and apparently, our folks are too old to donate. I'm it, dude. I'm her dad."

Henry made a point to ignore the dude comment. He got enough of that at home with his tomboy daughter. "Do you know what's involved in bone marrow transplanting?"

He'd only read about the actual illness and not the transplant itself because, if he was honest, he couldn't understand the medical jargon. Oliver figured that admission wouldn't get him what he wanted and so he lied. "Yes and I don't care."

There were a few seconds of silence before the doctor spoke again. "Then you know the procedure is done a by a nine inch needle that goes straight into your spine when you're awake and injected with a drug which causes paralysis?"

Oliver's brown eyes turned saucer wide. "Paralysis?"

Henry gave a grave nod. "It can have severe complications, like anti-moronic disease."

Oliver stared at his family doctor and realised his lie had been caught. "Anti-moronic disease," he stated, unimpressed. "That's funny. Really splitting my sides here."

Henry's straight face faded as he chuckled. He did love catching his clients on their lies. "The bone marrow is taken under general anaesthesia, but that's not to say it isn't painful afterward. Some liken it to a fall on the ice or a hard landing on your rear."

Oliver didn't care about the pain. "Tell me, doc. How do I give it to her?"

"Have you spoke to the child's..."

"Molly," Oliver said. "Her name is Molly."

Henry wanted to smile, but he couldn't. A smile would give the boy hope that giving bone marrow would magically save the child. "Have you spoke to Molly's Oncologist?"

Oliver shook his head. "Not yet, no. I don't wanna..."

"Don't want to what, son?"

"I don't wanna let Chloe know what I'm doing."

Henry frowned in confusion. "Why wouldn't you want her to know?"

Oliver ruffled his hair with his fingers and blew out a breath. "Because I don't want her to think I'm doing this out of pity or just because I want Molly to know I'm her dad. I want to do this because she's four years old, doc. Just four years old."

The doctor watched as the boy leaned forward. "I can do it, Henry. I can save her." He knew he could.

That broke Henry's heart and he wanted to tell what young Ollie wanted hear, but he couldn't. "You might be the same blood type, but that doesn't mean you're a tissue match, son."

"I don't understand," Oliver said. "Tissue match?"

The doctor knew then and there that the only way the boy would get his answers would be through talking to Molly's oncologist. "I'm not a specialist," Henry repeated. "I can get some information for you, but I can honestly say you need to speak to your daughter's doctor."

"I don't want to be given information, I want to do it. As in now, doc." Oliver thought quickly to find a way to get the man to do something now. "You're not a specialist or an oncologist, but you are a doctor. You can at least tell me what's involved. I mean, you just take the fatty stuff and give it to her, right?"

"No, son, we don't just take the fatty stuff and give it to her."

"Of course not, because that would be easy," Oliver pulled a face. "Then what do you do?"

Henry was silent for a few moments. "You're given a course of medication that release the stem cells into the blood stream. After four to five days, a blood sample is taken for tissue testing." He paused before playing the devil's advocate. "I can't guarantee the outcome," and the boy glared at him. "I've seen that expression too many times to be affected by it."

"Then tell me something, dude. Anything," Oliver's voice was thick. "She's four years old and this could be her first relapse. Chloe came to my _house_ , asking a man she never met or wanted to meet, for bone marrow."

The Queen family doctor took a good, hard look at the boy sat in front of him and being more selfless than he'd ever known. "I don't know what you want me to tell you, Oliver. I really don't. I can take a blood sample if you want, but it would be pointless without the medication."

"What about the transplant? Can't you guys just hook me up to her after finding out I'm a match?"

Henry shook his head. "No, son. We can't. What _us guys_ can do is see if you are a good match."

Frustration caused Oliver to snap. "What is the next step, _doctor_? Molly's second relapse? Molly's death? Cos that isn't happening, man. I'm telling you it's not going to happen."

The doctor ignored the boy's heart-felt statement. "If you're a match, then the next step will be the bone marrow harvesting and the transplant itself."

"Harvesting?" The sites never mentioned anything about harvesting. It didn't sound too sweet. "What's, uh... What's harvesting?"

Henry took a deep breath. "It's the clinical name for the process."

Oliver nodded as relief drowned the dread. "For a minute there, I thought harvesting was like, you know, _harvesting_ , but with bones."

Sometimes being a doctor was a trying profession. "No, son. It's got nothing to do with harvesting."

Another nod. "Okay, so how is it..." He really didn't want to use that word. "Harvested?"

"Well," Henry sighed. Oliver Queen obviously wasn't going to seek out answers from the person he should be asking. "The donor is given a general anaesthetic while several punctures are made at the back of the pelvic bone to remove the marrow."

Oliver took a moment to digest the information. "How is it given to Molly?"

"The marrow is then given to the recipient via an IV and usually takes fifteen minutes."

"Is that all?" Oliver couldn't keep the surprise out of his voice. "Just fifteen minutes? I thought it'd be longer."

"Unfortunately, her recovery will be a much longer process and isn't just physically and mentally taxing for the recipient." Henry rubbed the bridge of his nose. "I'm just a general practitioner, Oliver. You truly need to ask your daughter's oncologist. He'll be able to tell you everything you want to know."

"I know, doc," Oliver said, his voice laced with frustration. "I just don't want to give her hope, you know? I wanna find out if I'm a match first and then I wanna..."

"The most important thing for both donor and recipient is the support network. Family, friends, doctors, nurses and the like. As the patient's father, you're not an anonymous donor. You're emotionally involved and as such, I'd advise you to at least discuss your plans with the mother and the oncologist."

Oliver scruffed up his hair and ran both hands down his face, irritated that he couldn't get what he wanted. There was a part of him that wanted to stamp his foot and scream and shout, but the more mature side of him understood that it simply couldn't be done.

"I get you, doc," he eventually said and returned his attention to Henry. "Could you make me an appointment with the oncologist?"

"Asking this might be better coming from yourself, son. No doctor worth his salt would mind giving his time to answer a few questions."

 **XOXOXO**

The drive back home was made in silence as Oliver absorbed what he learned from his doctor.

Despite Chloe and himself knowing their first impressions had been very wrong, he still didn't want her to think he was doing it for publicity or anything like that. He wanted to do it for the simple reason that it was the right thing to do. Sure, it may not be changing or saving the world, but Molly was Chloe's daughter and it was obvious to him Molly was Chloe's world.

Oliver slowed his car as he pulled up to the main gates and waited for them to open. "Huh," he mused aloud and grinned. "I'm saving me a Fishcake."

Much better than saving the world.

He was still grinning when he entered the house and dropped his keys on the antique 'Key Table' his mom fell in love with on Ebay. He stared at the atrocity as he questioned his mother's taste in furniture, then thanked God his dad got his own way with the main living area.

If it was up to his mom, then there was no doubt the whole house would resemble Dracula's castle, and Oliver shuddered at the thought.

Hell, he shuddered each time the doorbell chimed.

"Dad," he called as he walked through the house. "Dad, I'm home."

Thirty three years old and he still had to let his folks know he was home.

That made him pause for thought.

Where was Molly?

Apart from the hospital, of course, but was she in bed asleep or was she in David's room watching her beloved Freddy? Was Chloe taking her outside for a short walk? Was she...

Oliver slipped his hands into his pocket and touched his cellphone. It'd only take a few seconds to call the hospital to ask...

He shook his head.

It was an overly protective thing to do and Chloe was there, so there was no cause for panic, right?

Right.

He was about to shrug off his jacket when his father came into view with two hands carrying two bags. "Going somewhere?"

Robert lifted his chin. "I'm going to see my granddaughter," he informed.

Oliver eyed each bag individually, seeing things of various shapes and sizes. "Going with gifts are you?"

His dad brightened at his son's enthusiasm. "Oh yes! The Wikipedia site said that stuffed toys may not be allowed, but books and games were okay. I've got Junior Edition Scrabble, Simpsons Monopoly and a Simpsons deck of cards. Plus a few other things, like Boggle and some junior puzzle books."

"You're not trying to worm you way in at all."

Robert managed to look innocent. "No. The poor girl must be bored."

"Right," Oliver drawled. "So bored she'll need everything."

His dad tried to keep up a facade, but failed.

Robert's shoulders slumped and he looked at his son. "You think it's too much?"

"Mom and I never took anything but ourselves," he paused before admitting. "Well, on our first visit."

"So you _do_ think it's too much?"

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "It's very thoughtful of you, dad. Plus, some of the other kids might enjoy them, too."

"So it _isn't_ too much?"

This time, brown eyes did roll. "No, it's not too much and I'm sure Chloe and Molly will be very grateful."

Robert's shoulders straightened and he perked up. "The staff at Toys R Us were very helpful," and they hadn't even commented when he got lost in aisle four.

Oliver arched a brow. "You went to Toys R Us?"

"Why is that so surprising, Oliver Jonas? I went into a lot of toy shops when you were born."

"Uh-huh and how many of those toys were really for you?"

Robert immediately changed the subject. "Well, I best be off, son. It's rude to keep ladies waiting."

Oliver bit his lip.

He wasn't planning on going to the hospital until a little later, but if his dad was going now, then it could come in handy. His dad could sit with Molly while he took Chloe for a coffee to discuss the transplant.

It was a plan.

"You gimme a ride, we save on gas."

"You're coming with me?" Robert wanted to spend some time with his granddaughter and if she had too many visitors, she might get sleepy and he wouldn't get to spend any time with her.

"I was gonna go later, but if you're going now..." Oliver thought about the doc's advice regarding a good support network. "Look, I sorta need your help on something, dad."

Robert looked at his son suspiciously. "With what, exactly?" The last time his boy mentioned help, it involved moving a lot of furniture around and his back had paid the price.

Oliver had to chuckle. "It's not manual, pop, so keep your hair on. I went to see Dr. Green today..." He didn't get a chance to finish.

"Are you okay? Maybe you shouldn't be going to see Molly if you're ill."

"I'm fine, dad. Honestly. I just went to ask a few questions is all. About, you know, bone marrow and stuff."

Robert put the bags down and inhaled a deep breath before slowly exhaling. Whatever decision was made, he would back his son one hundred percent. "Okay. Have you made a decision, son?"

Oliver nodded. "I'm gonna do it and this is where I need your help."

"Anything you need, Oliver Jonas. Anything at all."

"I need too talk to Chloe today, so I'm gonna take her to a local restaurant for something nice to eat and I need you to sit with Molly until we get back."

Robert jumped at the chance. "Would Chloe trust her a stranger with her daughter?"

Oliver laughed. "The question should be would Chloe trust her daughter with a stranger? Dad, you'll be in a hospital watched over by nurse Hawkeye. I don't think Chloe will be too worried."

"What about Molly? Will she be okay with being alone with a stranger?"

Remembering his kid's Stranger Danger thing, Oliver chuckled again. "Molly loves visitors, so she'll be fine. There's really nothing to worry about and oh, the green sticker means you can take the mask off."

"Mask?"

Instead of replying, his son basically said. "Instead of asking questions, why don't we go introduce you to my kid?"

Robert nodded. "Yes, let's do that," and he went to pick up the bags only to find Oliver already had them. He kept his smile to himself.

It may have taken a while, but it looked like his son was finally growing up.

 **XOXOXO**

Like Oliver and Laura, Robert was a little overwhelmed at the rules and regulations for visitation. Unlike his wife, his only expectation was being allowed straight in and to find out different gave him a better understanding of the situation.

After getting a green sticker, he went to take off his mask, but his son shook his head and glanced to the right. Robert looked in the direction and saw the charge nurse watching them carefully.

He left the mask where it was.

Oliver nudged his shoulder. "Just down here, dad."

Robert followed and God, he hadn't been this nervous since he first held Oliver. It was hard to believe his six-three boy had once fit into the palm of his hand. His son had been such a small baby, that he'd been terrified of hurting him and a good two days had passed before Laura smacked him upside the head.

He was about to share that little story with his son, but was prevented when his boy's mouth split into a wide smile and pretty much bounced into a private room.

A split second later Robert was treated to the voice of a little girl as she spoke and he'd honestly never heard his son greeted with so happily.

"Hey, Fishcake," he heard his son reply. "I've brought someone to see you."

"Excuse me, sir," came from just behind Robert and he jumped out of his skin.

Turning, he saw a pretty young woman with short blonde hair. "Am I in your way?"

Chloe only had to take one look at the man in front of her to know he was Oliver's father. "You must be Mr. Queen," she said and smiled.

It took a few moments for Robert to realise this was his granddaughter's mother and when he did, he eagerly stuck out his hand. "You must be Chloe. Please, call me Robert or Bob."

She coughed to hide her laughter and returned his handshake. "It's nice to meet you at last. I'm guessing it's not me you've come to see, am I right?"

Robert felt terrible. "I..."

This time, Chloe did laugh at the poor man's expression. "Don't worry about it," she continued to chuckle. "Molly's just in here."

He followed her into the private room and caused the little girl to instantly go quiet.

"Molly," Oliver said gently. "This my dad," _your grandfather_ , he wanted to add, but didn't.

Robert saw five little fingers wiggle up at him. "Hello, Molly. My name's Bobby," then watched as she tugged on his son's sleeve.

Oliver leaned towards her so she could whisper in his ear. "Molly says hello and we can take our masks off and are you really my dad?"

"Boy, I did one helluva good job on that stranger danger thing," Chloe muttered to herself. "Yes, sweetheart. He really is Oliver's dad."

Robert chuckled as Oliver said the magic words. "He brought you some presents."

Molly's brown eyes widened. "Really?"

Chloe sighed at her daughter. People were gonna start thinking she didn't buy her daughter anything.

"Really, really," Robert told her. "Games and books and puzzles."

"I've got em right here for you, Fishcake." Oliver lifted one of the bags he'd managed to sneak past her.

"Can I have them?" Molly asked, looking from her mom to Ollie to Robert and back, only to frown when her mom arched a brow. "I mean may I have them, please?"

"Good girl," Chloe gave her daughter a warm smile.

"Course you can have them, princess. They're yours. I can show you how to play them if you like?"

Robert felt quite proud of himself when her little face lit up. "Can you show me now? Mommy, can Bobby show me how to play my games now, please?"

Chloe found herself the target of all three sets of big brown eyes. There was no chance of saying no. "Only if Robert says it's alright."

Molly immediately looked to the elder Queen. "Is it alright?"

Robert was careful not to appear too eager. "I'd love to show you how to play them now. Why don't we look the games and see which one you want to play first?"

Oliver got up and offered his dad the chair. "Tell you what, Molly," he stated. "You have some playtime while your mom and I go to the store for some proper cocoa and marshmallows. How does that sound?"

Chloe's heart skipped a beat as it became clear Oliver wanted to talk to her alone. Oliver wanting to talk to her alone could only mean one thing and there were two possible answers, one of which she couldn't bear to think about.

"A trip to the store would be a good idea," she agreed and gave Oliver a swift nod. "Would you mind giving me a ride into the city? I could do with picking up a few things."

"You want me to go _shopping_?"

Chloe shook her head at the horror on his face. Men. "Suck it up, Queen. You offered."

Oliver was about to deny all knowledge when her eyes flashed and he read the signal clearly. She was buying them enough to talk, seriously talk.

He mock sighed. "Shopping it is."

"Mommy, mommy, can I have..."

Chloe stopped the question right then and there. "No."

Molly was not to be detered. "But I just..."

"You've already got presents today and you're getting cocoa later."

"But..."

"Molly Anne..."

Molly knew that tone and what it meant. "Alright," she pouted. "You will get juice, though, right?"

Chloe had to smile. Juice was the one thing she never denied her daughter. "Yes, I'll get your juice."

Robert couldn't help but feel a little strange as he sat there, listening as his granddaughter was given firm boundaries. He struggled to remember if Laura and himself had ever been that strict with Oliver and nothing sprung to mind.

Laura and himself had always given their son what they never had, and seeing parenting done by someone with a lot less resources was eye-opening.

 _Maybe Laura and I should have given Oliver what we did have_ , Robert thought.

"Ollie and I won't be long, sweetheart," Chloe said as she picked up her jacket. "You be good for Bobby, okay?"

Molly nooded. "Promise. Bye, mommy, bye Ollie."

Robert watched them leave and turned to Molly. "Now let's look at these games."

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver glanced at a silent Chloe as he pressed the elevator button.

Both hands clutched her purse strap and her eyes were focused on the steel doors. Sure she wasn't the everyday chatter box, but neither was she quiet as a mouse. Considering the talk they were about to have, he couldn't blame her for being on edge.

Still, she could at least acknowledge him or give him a smile or hell, a thank you for pressing the elevator button.

Unless she really was one of the quiet types and only talked around her daughter?

Oliver shook his head.

Nah.

Not Chloe.

She was far too quick witted to be a quiet one.

He dove in. "Sorry if I sprung my dad on you," he began. "He just wanted to see her is all and it kinda wasn't fair that he was the only who hadn't. Don't tell him I told you so, but he pouted."

The elevator pinged and jolted Chloe out of her thoughts. "I'm sorry, Oliver. I was miles away. What did you say?"

"I was talking about my dad," he shrugged before hitting the lobby button. "Nothing important, really. Just saying how he pouted about not being invited to see her."

Green eyes widened and her mouth fell open. "Oh my God!" She exclaimed. "I never thought. I figured being the man behind the Queen Industries wheel wouldn't have a lot of time to spare, so I assumed he would do what you and your mom did."

"Nope," Oliver grinned. "Poor guy was feeling left out."

Chloe cringed. With everything else going on, she hadn't once thought about Oliver's father. "Oops."

"Don't beat yourself up about it, Chlo. Mom and me enjoyed seeing a grown man sulk into his coffee cup."

"I."

Oliver blinked. "What?"

Chloe looked at him. "You said mom and me. It's mom and I."

"That's an..." He tried to find a good word to describe something so irritating. "Educating hobby you got there. Been doing it long?"

Chloe didn't seem the slightest bit apologetic. "It started when I began to write. The more I wrote, the more I realised how lazy I was with my speech and how it must sound to other people. Plus, can you imagine if word got out that an author couldn't string a sentence together?"

She shuddered at the thought. "Not exactly inspiring for the youth of today."

"Never gave it that much thought, to be honest," Oliver confessed a little ruefully.

"Well, you should," she stated with some firm nodding. "First impressions are very important, Ollie, and good speech can only help give a great one."

When no response came, Chloe looked at him and found him grinning. "What?"

"You're such a mom," he chuckled.

"Benefits of lacking adult conversation, I'm afraid."

"Not so lacking these days," and Oliver pointed to himself.

Green eyes sparkled slyly. "Your mom has been great to chat to."

"Sarcasm is the lowest form of wit."

"There's a reason why I use it with you."

"My handsome face stunts your keen intellect?"

Chloe arched a brow. "Your face stunts something and it's not my keen intellect."

Oliver went to reply, but the elevator came to a halt and the doors smoothly slid open. He gestured for her to go first. "Ladies first."

"Age before beauty."

"Dust before broom."

She walked ahead of him, but not before getting in the last word. "Pearls before swine."

"Parker and Luce, right?" He asked as he trailed after her and he must have done something good because the smile he got was nothing short of brilliant. Not to mention contagious and he couldn't keep from returning it.

"Yep."

Oliver thought. "Ass before foot?"

"Not bad, Queen," Chloe said in approval. She may steal it. "Brawn before brain."

"Beauty before beast..." This time it was him who paused. "Damn!"

Maybe challenging a writer was not the most genius thing to do.

 **XOXOXO ******

 **"I'm going to the store one day," Molly told Robert quite matter of factly. "I'm not allowed to go cos I'm sick. When I get better I'm going to the store and I'm gonna buy lots of candy and chocolate and food for my fish. I don't have my fish yet cos I haven't been to the aquaroom."**

 **He wondered how many people would give anything not to go to a store. "Where else do you want to go when you're better? Apart from the aquarium."**

 **The little girl thought for a moment. "The movies so I can watch my movies on a big TV. Mommy bought me some new DVD's. I got Freddy 1, 2, and 3 so I don't have to borrow David's anymore."**

 **Robert recalled what Oliver said and chuckled. "I have a big TV at my house," he told her. "When you're better, you can come watch your movies there and you can have popcorn and anything you want."**

 **"Can mommy and Ollie come, too?"**

 **"Of course they can, princess. If my groundskeeper says it's alright, you can pick your own apples and oranges."**

 **Molly's eyes brightened. "You have apples and oranges?"**

 **Robert thought of how large the Queen estate was and honestly couldn't wait for her to see it. "There's apples and oranges, lemons and limes, cherries and gooseberries, and lots of other fruits. Laura might even bake you a pie."**

 **"Like an apple pie? Could I help make it?"**

 **"I'm sure she'd love you to help."**

 **"Do have have dogs and cats, too?"**

 **"No, but the groundskeeper has some dogs." He knew better than to mention the new puppies that had just been born.**

 **"Tina brings Penny once a week. Penny's a special dog who comes to the hospital to help people." Molly explained with nodding. "Sometimes I'm not allowed to pet Penny cos I'm too sick."**

 **Robert only heard of therapy dogs when one had been mentioned in one of his favourite books, . "Do you know that in England, those special dogs are called pat dogs?"**

 **She gasped. "You've been to _England_?"**

 **"I have," and he just had to tell her, "I met the Queen."**

 **Molly chewed her lip. "Did you meet the Doctor?"**

 **Robert blinked. "Did I meet a doctor?"**

 **"No," she shook her head. "The Doctor. He's funny and lives in a blue box."**

 **Now he got it and he hated to disappoint her. "No, princess. I haven't met the Doctor."**

 **Her face fell. "Oh, well that's okay, I guess. I mean, he must be very busy saving the world."**

 **It was a hard struggle not to laugh out loud, but he managed. Bearly. "Yes, I imagine he is a very busy man."**

 **"Um-hm," Molly nodded. "He does come to Earth sometimes and my mommy wrote a funny doctor in one of her books."**

 **That surprised Robert. Neither his wife or son mentioned Chloe was a writer. "Your mom writes books?"**

 **"I'm not s'posed to tell, so ssh."**

 **"I'll make you a deal. You tell me all about your mommy's funny doctor and I won't tell on you."**

 **Molly looked suspicious. "That's what Ollie said and he snitched on me."**

 **That wasn't the way Oliver told it, but never mind.**

 **Robert held out his pinkie finger. "I promise I won't snitch on you."**

 **She still looked suspicious. "Cross your heart and hope to die?"**

 **He thanked God none of his colleagues were here to see what he was about to do, then thanked God he'd had a son.**

 **Robert cross his heart with his pinkie and kissed it. "Cross my heart and hope to die, stick a needle in my eye."**

 **Finally satisfied, Molly began to speak. "The funny doctor was called Mr. Goodbody because mommy said it was a funny name for a bad man."**

 **Why did that name ring a bell? "Your mommy is right, princess. That is a funny name for a bad doctor."**

 **"Mommy says she's always right, but I don't think she is. She says that sandshoes would be good for my feet, but sandy shoes wouldn't feel very nice to wear."**

 **Robert chuckled. Now he got the sandy shoes story his wife and son had been talking about. "No, i don't think sandy shoes would be very nice to wear."**

 **Agreeing with her seemed to have won him some points.**

 **Molly smiled happily and nodded. "My mommy writes the doctor bad because he's a doctor and knows how to clean up after himself and he knows what poison to use on people he's mean to."**

 **Robert frowned.**

 **He'd read a lot of crime novels with killer doctors, but only one with a Dr. Goodbody. He remembered chuckling at the dry humour used in the novel and how the little details used in all the author's novels had made Esther Allred one his favourites.**

 **Wait a minute.**

 **His eyes widened considerably as he realised the mother of his granddaughter was Esther Allred.**

 **"Holy sh..." It was only the sight of Molly that made him sharply rethink his word. "Ship!"**

 ****XOXOXO** **

It had been so long since she'd had the pleasure of something other than microwave meals and fast food, that Chloe honestly didn't know what to have. Everything sounded so damn good.

Yeah, Oliver was probably looking at her like she had six heads, but what the hell. This was of the few decent meals and she was not gonna make the choice lightly. "Decisions, decisions," she sighed.

Oliver wasn't looking at her in such a way at all.

He was actually wondering just how long it had been since she'd treated herself to something other than a TV dinner. Thinking about made him sure he didn't really wanna know purely because it made him feel like crap for how he behaved the day they met.

He'd judged her by appearance alone and sure he hadn't known then what he knew now, but still. That was no way to act toward anyone.

"I say we go wild and have steak."

Chloe's eyes peered over her menu. "I was looking at the Waldorf salad."

Oliver pulled a face. "You're not one of those chicks who diet, are you? Cos you don't need to do that. You look fine to me."

He didn't have to be a genius to know how that would sound to her. "What I mean is you're not, you know, unhealthy or anything. You're good to go."

A single eyebrow rose. "So my breasts are a turn on this time, huh?"

He felt his face heat up and he scratched the back of his neck. "Yeah, sorry about that."

Chloe dropped the menu on the table. "Bygones, Ollie," she told him with a smile. "Besides, I wasn't exactly at my best, either. Passive-aggression isn't my forte."

Unfortunately, judging women on appearance was his forte and he didn't want her to know how much of a user he was.

"Hello in there?"

Oliver blinked and smiled to cover up his thoughts. "So, the steak?"

Green eyes rolled. "Yes, we'll go wild and have the steak."

"And your poison?"

"In a little bottle, please," and his expression made her chuckle quietly. "An iced tea wouldn't go amiss."

"You sure?" He asked. "They have a good selection of wine here, so..."

"I'm sure a tipsy mom would provide comic relief at the hospital."

Ah.

Oliver winced. "Hadn't thought of that. Two steak dinners and two iced teas..."

Chloe was quick to stop him. "If you want a beer or a glass of wine, don't let me..."

"It's probably not a good idea, all things considered." Especially since he was planning to donate his marrow.

She took a breath and held it for five before exhaling slowly. "Oh?" She asked, deliberately keeping her voice light.

Oliver coughed to cover his nervousness. "I've done some research, as you know, and I spoke to my doctor today about stuff. Did you know the transplant itself only takes fifteen minutes?"

Chloe purposely avoided looking at him. "I did."

Seeing she what she was doing and knowing why, he reached out and covered her hand with his, squeezing softly. "I'm gonna do it, Chlo."

Her gaze snapped to him. "What?"

He squeezed her hand harder and felt her respond "I'm gonna get tested and I'm gonna be match and..." He swallowed. "And I want Molly to know who I am, Chloe. I want her to know I'm her father."


	9. 9

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses 9  
Author: Jude  
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk  
Rating: Rated for language and implied sexual situations.  
Category: AU  
Content: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nixies.  
Distribution: Here, there, everywhere!  
Notes: Dedicated to every bloody Chlollie fanfic writer in the world! A big, giant thank you to the usual suspects who helped me muchly with a very tricky chapter. Al, Strom, I love you ladies!

 _And I want Molly to know who I am, Chloe. I want her to know I'm her father_.

Chloe stared at Oliver as his words ran circles around her brain.

He couldn't be serious.

Absolutely no damn way could he be serious.

For a start, he hadn't been around for very long and sure he was going to take her on a trip, had bought her presents and food. He still hadn't wanted a child, let alone a sick one. Besides, who was to say that when all was said and done, he wouldn't up and leave?

She wasn't going to have her daughter get attached to a father who was ultimately going to abandon her when the responsibility finally caught up with him.

Oliver sat and watched as Chloe's head slowly started to move from side to side. He squeezed her hand tighter, harder as her green eyes began to show the ice he'd seen the first time they met.

Determined not to be shut out, "Chloe..."

"No," she said firmly. "Absolutely not."

He bit back the anger that rose in his stomach. She didn't do or say things without good reason. "Why not, Chloe? Why can't she know I'm her dad?"

Chloe's lips formed a thin line and she remained silent.

"You told me to look before leap," Oliver said, struggling to keep his voice on an even keel as his eyes burned. "I've read about ALL, I'm getting tested and I know I'm going to be a match. So why, huh? Why not?"

He still didn't get a reply.

"Is it because of how I was when you showed at my house? You said bygones, but maybe it's not. I'm sorry, Chloe. I know I can't become a good man overnight, but I'm _trying_ to be better. I swear I'm trying. I've gone into work on time and I went to the doc and I'm _here_."

She didn't know what going into work on time had to do with anything.

Oliver's heart hurt when Chloe pulled her hand from his and he watched as she rubbed her forehead before taking a deep breath.

"That has nothing to do with this, Ollie. I don't think bad of you," she told him, her voice a husky shell of its usual level of humour and vibrance. "Honestly, I don't. What you've done is given me hope that Molly will be okay and I can't thank you enough, but..."

"But what?" He asked, desperate to understand. "What is so bad about telling her that I'm her father?"

Chloe took a moment to gather her thoughts. "Plainly?"

"Always."

"What are you going to do after the transplant?"

Confusion appeared on his face. "What do you mean?"

She smiled slightly. "The transplant is over and Molly is recovering. Will you be there as her friend Ollie who takes her to the aquarium now and then? Or are you going to be there as her daddy? Or aren't you going to be there at all?"

Oliver swallowed as she continued. "Right now, you're just her new friend who doesn't snitch on her, but if she finds out you're her daddy, then she's going to get attached and she's going to love you." Chloe paused as she let that sink in. "Children are for life, Ollie, and not just for Christmas."

"You don't think I'm capable of that responsibility," he stated flatly. "I understand." Who would think he was capable of that?

"No!" She exclaimed a bit too loudly, then lowered her voice. "I'm just saying you didn't ask for a child or the responsibility of one."

"True, but I _do_ have one and I can look after her, Chloe. I know I can look after her." Hell, he'd looked after Bart for the last ever. What was one kid compared to that? "I'm just asking for a chance."

"Okay," she sighed. "You wanted proof she was yours before anything, right?"

Oliver nodded.

"I need proof that you're going to be good for her and I don't just mean making her laugh or bringing her burgers and presents. I mean, what will you do when she has a bad day?" Chloe asked seriously. "When she's crying because she hurts or when she screams because she doesn't want another needle in her arm? Or when she wets the bed because she's too weak to move?"

He honestly didn't know what to say.

"All you've seen are her good days, Oliver, and you have been brilliant with her. You and your family have made her smile more in one week than I've been able too in a month." She chuckled ruefully. "She probably loves you already."

"You think?" He asked, unable to keep the smile away. That was actually kinda nice.

Chloe rolled her eyes. "You're just after another lady," and threw her napkin at him. "All I'm asking is that you really think about if that's something you want to live with for the rest of your life. Because when Molly loves, she loves with her whole heart and I won't have that heart broken if you eventually decide she isn't worth the effort."

A week ago, Oliver would have heard her saying he was flaky and responded accordingly, but now that he knew better? He saw a mother looking out for her daughter's best interests, much like own had done for him. Still, that was only her point of view regarding Molly, so now he wanted to know Chloe's point of view.

"Do _you_ want her to know I'm her father?" He asked, carefully watching her face. "Plainly."

His question took Chloe off guard, but she answered truthfully. "Of course I don't!"

Oliver's eyebrows touched his hairline at the sound of her laughter. "Why?"

"I've gone four years without having to share her with anyone," she smiled sheepishly even as her cheeks flushed a pale pink. "If you were her father, then I'd have to share."

He couldn't help it.

A hearty laugh escaped him and made people look in his direction.

Chloe watched as he patted his chest and saw his brown eyes sparkling with mirth. He was rather nice when he laughed like that.

"You're shitting me," he coughed out. "You are not that selfish. No freaking way are you that selfish."

"What makes you say that?"

Oliver blinked. "Now you really are shitting me."

Chloe shook her head. "No, I'm not. What makes you think I'm not selfish?"

She was being serious. Completely, wholly, and utterly serious. "You have a sick kid and you're doing what you can for her," he said, his laughter quickly fading. "You didn't want me, you wanted my bone marrow, and you stuck your neck out to save your daughter."

"I used a sperm donor, remember?"

"Yeah..." and that honestly confused him, but instead of asking, he waited for her to continue.

"I used a sperm donor because I wanted a child," she said, averting her gaze. "I didn't think about consequences or the what ifs... I chose a donor because it was easier than dealing with the drama and pitfalls of a relationship."

Oliver thought about it before nodding. "That doesn't sound selfish to me," and it really didn't. "It sounds like you were a woman who wanted a baby, but not the complications of a relationship."

Chloe's chuckle was a chuckle he didn't like. "I didn't think about my baby, did I? I just saw days out at the park and watching them graduate. I didn't think about the drama and pitfalls of what came with a baby. I thought I did, but I didn't and why I'm telling you this, I don't know."

"You're telling me because you know I won't judge you, Chloe," he said. "And I still don't think you're selfish and just for the record?"

"What?"

"There are gonna be so many days at the park and graduation and..." Oliver frowned a little. "I was gonna say grandchildren, but I don't think Molly should know about sex for a while." Speaking of, "Who is her friend? The one she watches movies with?"

Chloe's brain had to sprint to catch up with him. "You mean David?" What about David?

"Are you sure they just watch movies? I mean, what if he's... You know, being a _guy_?"

She took a deep breath and let it out so very slowly. "When I said you have to prove your ability to be a father, I didn't mean for you too also prove your ability to be nuts"

"I'm not nuts!" Oliver told her quite seriously. "This David is obviously older than Molly and he's been letting her watch what again?"

Chloe merely gave him a look which he responded with a victorious smirk. "Exactly," he said with a smirk of victory. "And did you know anything about it? No."

"You're older than me and you offered to buy me alcohol, and does my daddy know about that?"

The first thing that got his attention was the fact she didn't say her mom and secondly? "That's different!" He pointed out. "You're legal and Molly isn't and won't be legal until she's thirty." Possibly forty.

Maybe never, even.

Chloe's quick wit didn't fail.

She fiddled with her top for a moment or two before treating Ollie to a look so sly, he totally missed the trap she was laying out for him. "You say you want to be her father, right?"

He didn't hesitate. "Of course."

"You agree that she has a lot of your personality?"

Oliver couldn't keep from eagerly agreeing. "Yes," he said, not seeing the trap for possibly being acknowledged as a parent. "Yes, she does. Even the movie thing. I swapped He-Man for Hellraiser so I wouldn't get caught."

"So..." Chloe drew patterns on the table cloth. "You were devious as a kid?"

"Yeah I was," and he was so proud of it.

"Molly is your daughter, Ollie. Now think of who you should feel for. David or Molly."

It took Oliver a moment or three for it to sink that he'd just been wrapped up a nice, tight cocoon of crap.

He looked at Chloe who was sat there, smiling away to herself, and felt totally helpless at the fact he'd just dug his own grave. "You are a mean, mean woman, Chloe Sullivan."

The sparkle returned to those green eyes of hers and he was glad to see it, even if it was at his expense. "You forgot clever."

"Are you sure she's my daughter?" He pulled a face and shrugged. "Maybe there was another mix up..."

Chloe laughed. "Hey, you wanted the joys of parenthood."

Oliver grinned and sat that bit straighter. "Yes, Chlo. I do want those joys," he said. "I think it was Miss. Monroe who said if you can't take the worst of me, then you don't deserve the best of me."

She shook her head, an affectionate smile on her face as she looked at him. "You want this, don't you? I mean, you really want to be there for her?"

"Yes, I do, and I'm not going to abandon her," his chest ached at the thought. His own father had never done such a thing and neither would he. "If you need me, I'll be there for you, too."

Chloe once again stared at Oliver, but this time she felt her eyes grow hot and she had to blink back tears. Unfortunately, it wasn't working no matter hard she tried. The kindness she'd been shown in the last two weeks alone caught up and she covered it up the same way all women do. "I'm just going to powder my nose..."

He was having none of it.

Oliver moved from his side of the table too sit next to her, effectively blocking her escape. "I mean it, Chlo. I know you got your family, but sometimes family can be too close."

She wiped her eyes even as a sharp laugh made her hiccup. "You're family too... Well, sort of."

"I'm also a stranger," he said, lifting her chin so she met his gaze. "A stranger is often the best person too talk to and if anyone needs to blow off some steam, then it's you."

Chloe waved it away. "I'm fine, Ollie. Honestly. It's nothing I'm not used too."

Seeing he wasn't going to get much more out of her today, he let her chin go and settled back into the seat with a smile on his face. He'd get there with her and he'd prove he was father and friend material, but not only that.

He would prove that she could trust him and that he could trust himself to be a good person.

For the moment, he was quite happy to be the guy who would treat a pretty girl to a steak dinner and good conversation.

Oliver stretched his arms across the back of the seat and started talking. "So, you met Bart and Arthur..."

 **XOXOXO**

It had been so long since she'd gone out and had a good time without feeling the world on her shoulders. So long that she'd almost forgotten what a good time was, yet here she was.

A well cooked steak dinner in front of her, good company beside her, and good conversation. Sure Ollie had sneered at her choice of having a steak welldone, saying a medium rare was better, but she explained it was habit now. Molly had to have her meat thoroughly cooked to stop germs such as ecoli and so forth.

"We are so coming back here, Chlo," he said around a mouthful of chewed beef.

"Will my view be better?" She asked and made a point when she closed her mouth.

Oliver rolled his eyes and this time, he swallowed before he spoke. "What? My face not pretty enough for you?"

"You remember earlier when you said _look before you leap_?"

He nodded.

Chloe smirked. "Your face is..."

Oliver held up his cutlery in defence. "Uncle!"

She chuckled. "You're such an ass and yeah, I am coming back here." When she got the chance too, that was.

A restaurant that cooked a steak right in front of her? On the list of good places to go once Molly was better.

Chloe stopped her hopes right then and there.

Just because Oliver believed he was going to be a match didn't mean he would be a match, so she couldn't let herself get carried away with his enthusiasm, despite how contagious that enthusiasm was. There was so much to think about when it came to bone marrow transplants and usually, the recovery was often worse than leukemia itself.

Being in the young Oncology ward, Chloe knew first-hand how difficult it could be coping with a victim, but the recovery? Elsa's daughter was still recovering and it had been just over a year since her transplant.

Because of this, there were no guarantees Molly was going to get better.

Especially since they had to destroy her immune system so her body would take to the new marrow.

Suddenly her steak didn't taste so good.

Oliver was about to tuck into more when he saw Chloe place her fork back onto her plate, her face expressing something he couldn't describe except for tired.

How long had it been since she'd let her hair down?

He answered his own question by quickly doing the math. Molly was four years and almost six months, then he added the nine months to that, and finally the time it would have taken for her donation. All in all, he guessed Chloe Sullivan hadn't been Chloe Sullivan for a good six years.

Knowing Molly and Chloe were going through hell while he'd been partying was...

Well, it hurt and it hurt a lot.

Keeping his gaze on her as she ate, Oliver summoned their waitess with a simple click of his fingers. "I'd like a bottle of the house wine, please, and if you can, a chocolate cake to go."

Chloe almost choked. "I can't drink!"

"You can if I take you home," and he held up his hand. "I'll drop you off and then drive to the hospital to stay with Molly."

"You can't do that! My place is an hour away and that's in good traffic." Plus, it would mean him sleeping in the family room, a place he was not accustomed too.

"Then it's a good thing we're in the city central, so it'll be what?" Oliver smiled. "Half hour from the city, which we're already in, and an hour back to the hospital. I think I can handle it."

Maybe he could, but she couldn't.

The only nights she spent at home was when Lois or her dad could spend the night and even then, she was couldn't sleep. She was so used to sleeping on a reclining chair or on a pull-out sofa, that her bed was foreign to her.

He saw her expression. "Chloe, I'll look after her. I promise. If there's anything wrong, I'll call you right away."

"It's not that, Ollie, it's just..." How could she explain it? "I haven't been home in a while," and when she said while, she meant weeks.

His smile of understanding reached his eyes. "You have to go home sometime, you know. Let this be the night you get re-acquainted with your own bed. We'll stop off for our daughter's juice and some goodies for the other kids... Like _David_."

Chloe rolled her eyes at the way he said the boy's name. "Ollie, you don't have to do this. I know what I said earlier, but..."

"I know I don't, which is why I'm doing it," and just to prove his point, he spoke with his mouth full and grinned around a mouthful of half chewed beef.

"You're disgusting, you know that?"

The waitress coughed a little, not really wanting to interrupt the conversation.

Oliver blinked and looked up. "Oh, right. Sorry. A bottle of the house white and your best chocolate cake, boxed up and ready to go."

"Oh, wait no," Chloe interrupted quickly. "My car's at the hospital so I won't be able to drive back tomorrow morn..."

He stopped her then and there. "I'll come pick you up. No trouble."

"You can't do that, Ollie!" She exclaimed, wide-eyed. "That's a three hour round trip."

Brown eyes rolled in annoyance. "A trip that I'm happy to make."

"Add on the driving hours you'd be doing tonight. I can't let you do that."

"You can't let me not do it, either."

Chloe scowled. "That's a double negative."

She was such an author. "So sue me."

Chloe and Oliver stared heavily at each other, and kept staring until the waitress spoke up a little timidly.

"Excuse me? Would you like me to come back in a few moments?"

One had the grace to blush in shame while the other coughed to cover up how much of a lame ass twit he felt for causing a scene.

"It's just one night, Chloe. Not even twenty four hours. You can go home and get some rest for a change." He paused and dragged all his knowledge of women to the forefront of his brain. "Picture this... You, a hot bath, few glasses of wine, candles, some music..."

One look at her face told him he was on the right track, so he kept going.

"Maybe you could, you know, go online shopping and treat yourself to something nice."

Chloe chewed on her lower lip. "Like that terrabite external hard drive?" It would come in handy.

"I was gonna say shoes," Oliver remarked, rather amused. "If hard drives are your thing, then sure. Go nuts and get the biggest one you can find. Well? Bottle of wine and chocolate cake or no bottle of wine and chocolate cake?"

It was just one night... But it was still one night without getting to hug and kiss her daughter night-night.... But Ollie said he'd be there... Maybe he'd give Molly a hug and kiss night-night on her behalf...

"C'mon, Chlo," he cajoled. "Time's ticking."

"Yes," Chloe squeezed her eyes shut as the word escaped out of her mouth. "Yes, I'll take the offer, but only if you're sure you don't mind."

He snatched her hand back before it could render the napkin totally useless and smirked when one of her eyes inched slowly open. "I wouldn't have offered if I did mind."

The waitress smiled. "So it's a yes to your order?"

Chloe beamed at her. "Yes, please. Thank you," and waited until she left before speaking again. "You know what I said to you that day? About your friends waking up and seeing you for what you are?"

Oliver cringed inside.

Yeah, he remembered.

"Those guys have their eyes wide open."

 **XOXOXO**

Her house was an ordinary house and why he expected otherwise, he didn't know. Maybe it was because an ordinary house didn't fit her personality or maybe it was because he was too used to seeing estates and mansions. Not that it mattered where she lived, because it didn't.

At least, not to him.

Chloe fished around in her purse until she found her keys. "Long time, no see," she muttered and walked up to the front door, noting it would be too narrow for Molly's wheelchair.

She sighed.

It was just one more on her list of things to get done in the coming months.

She heard his footsteps come to a stop and she glanced at him. "Welcome to Casa de Sullivan," she said and pushed the door open.

There was no stale air and the place was warm, so she figured Lois was back from her assignment and had popped over to do up the place.

Something she would be forever grateful for.

Chloe walked inside and flicked on the lights. "C'mon in and make yourself at home."

Oliver stepped inside and yup, there went the ordinary. The decor was not abstract or outlandish, but it was definitely different. She had framed pictures of optical illusions in the hallway and he paused to look at each and every one of them.

One of them had instructions for him to stare at the centre for thirty seconds and then look at the back of his hand.

So he did.

Not hearing him follow her, Chloe turned around to see what he was doing and shook her head. If he was fascinated with that one, then she'd never get him out of her lounge area.

Or the guest bedroom that had an entire wall painted with objects and scenes with a sign that said Where's Wally?"

She watched, amused, as Oliver quickly looked at the back of his hand and muttered, "Neat."

"Uh-huh."

His head snapped up to look at her, his cheeks turning red when he saw how she was looking at him. Whenever he got caught doing something, he always pointed out something stupid. "My skin went all twirly."

Green eyes looked to the ceiling. "Men."

Oliver merely grinned and continued to follow her through the house, his eyes taking in what made it her home. He could see the work she put in too making her mark on it, but yet there were things that weren't quite right.

For a start, she kept looking around like she was planning what to do with it and how she kept looking at the stairs in distaste, and how she seemed to measuring the space. Unless she had something against stairs and narrow hallways, then she...

Oh.

Right.

Molly needed a wheelchair because excessive walking would tire her out.

For the second time that day, his heart hurt and this time, it hurt for her because he figured she was going too have to sell and look for somewhere else to live. Not only did she have a daughter to worry about, but she also had this to worry about.

Oliver wondered how the hell she hadn't cracked yet.

Even if she owned the place, the cost of renovations would make it easier to simply buy a new one.

"Lois remembered to buy the basics if you want a coffee," Chloe hollered from the kitchen. "It's the least I can do."

He followed her voice and leaned agaist the kitchen doorway, his eyes focused completely on her as he beat around the bush. "You'll need to sell, won't you?"

She paused. "Yes, I will. My father has a few contacts who can help with that."

What was he?

Chopped liver?

"You do know who's standing in your kitchen at this very moment, don't you?" Oliver asked with a smirk.

Chloe paused in putting the wine into the fridge. "Yeah," she smirked back at him. "A guy who likes twirly skin."

He pulled face that simply made her feign a helpless shrug. "At Queen Industries, I'm in mergers and acquisitions. Know why? Cos I can negotiate one hell of a deal." He let out a laugh. "Honey, I could get this place sold like that," and he snapped his fingers.

Ollie was already doing more than enough.

She shook her head. "Honestly, it's fine. My father's contacts are already on the case." They weren't, but he didn't have to know that.

Granted he'd only known her for a short while, but he knew people and he knew when people lied. Yes, Chloe was better than most at hiding lies and fibs, but she wasn't an expert.

Still, he knew better than to push.

"Mind if I look around?"

Chloe blinked, slightly baffled at his request. "Knock yourself out."

Oliver grinned. "I'll pass, but thanks."

"Har har."

 **XOXOXO**

He started in the living area and took a good, long look around. It was neat and tidy, with pictures of who he assumed were family and friends. The furniture looked comfortable and yet it was quirky, mismatched yet co-ordinated with various nik-naks here and there.

 _Hmm_...

"Not a bad size," Oliver muttered as his eyes swept around the room once more before he left for the stairs.

Not too narrow, a little steep perhaps, but not dangerously so. He took his time and checked for creaking steps and sharp nails, but found none. The bannister was sturdy and made of decent wood and sure, it was in need of a little repair work, but that was neither here nor there.

He rounded the corner and his eyebrows rose as it became quite clear the house was bigger upstairs than it was downstairs. Curious, he opened the first door and nodded in approval at the bathroom.

Good size, well maintained, with both a shower and a tub, nicely decorated with no visible problems such as damp and uneven flooring.

Oliver closed the door and went to the next room and when he saw the butterflies on the wall, he knew he was looking at his daughter's bedroom. He swallowed as he walked further in, eyes taking in the toy box and he wondered how long it had gone untouched.

Her bed was a cute little kiddy bed with pretty lilac covers.

He frowned.

A _lot_ of pretty lilac covers and plenty of pillows that looked soft and inviting. So inviting, he had an urge to try one out.

Knowing Chloe, she would not have skimmped on her daughter's comfort and since Molly was four, the bed would have been bought just as she got ill.

A bearly used toy box and a much used bed turned his eyes hot. It hurt to know his daughter would have spent more time sleeping and not causing chaos as terrible twos were meant to do.

Oliver forced himself to focus on what he was looking for.

It was just the right size for a child's first bedroom, with a door near the window that he figured was a small closet and closets were always good things in bedrooms. The carpeting was good and soft enough to cushion footsteps, another thing buyers often looked for in a first-time purchase.

He backed out and closed the door quietly, then looked down the hall and paused for a moment. There were two more doors left, one of which would be Chloe's bedroom.

"Well?" A voice said from behind him and his skin jumped off his body.

Turning, Oliver glared at the woman who had quite literally just given him his first heart attack. "Are you insane? Seriously insane? Jesus Christ."

Chloe smiled sheepishly. "Sorry. I thought you heard me. Here," and handed him his coffee.

"Thanks," his voice dripped with sarcasm.

"Wanna finish the ten cent tour?"

He nodded. "How much you asking for this place?"

Chloe glanced at him before she opened the door to the guest room. "You know how I said my father had contacts?"

"Yes."

"An evaluator isn't one of them. Unfortunately."

Oliver sipped his coffee as he looked around the room that had obviously been used as a study and thanked God his dad wasn't here. The place was a shrine to all things crime and her book shelves were actually bending under the weight. "Read a lot, do you?"

"A lot of what I read in here has more to do with research, not personal enjoyment. Those are my bedroom."

He walked around and took the room in in the same way as the others. This room was a good choice for a study. A large window facing the sun may have been a bit blinding, but there were a few trees outside that provided just the right kind of shade. It was small without being clostrophobic, the walls were smooth and the floorboards well-maintained and he could smell potential a mile away.

"Is there a garage?"

Chloe looked suspicious. "Yes, this part of the upper floor is built above it."

Oliver nodded offhandedly as he continued to look around. "That explains the size difference. Figured as much, but always better to have assurance." He turned to face her so fast, she jumped a little. "Can I see your bedroom?"

She swore he was almost bouncing on the spot. "If you like..."

His grin was slow and calculating, his brain spinning a mile per second. "Oh, I'd like," he said. "I'd like very much."

 _Ohhhkay_...

"Follow me," Chloe led the way, shaking her head and wondering what on Earth he was planning.

Oliver was at the other door before she could blink. "In this case, Miss. Sullivan, it's business before pleasure," and opened it.

While the room certainly wasn't the largest master bedroom, it certainly wasn't the smallest, and that made it perfect for what he wanted. There was a decent closet space, no creaking floor, and yes.

"I'm going to buy this place," he thought aloud. "I'm going to buy it, renovate, and sell."

Chloe was still staring at him when he once again faced her with an expression that clearly meant business. "We'll get the place evaluated and get the papers drawn up, and then..."

"Then I live on street?" She asked incredulously. "Where the hell am I supposed to live while you're... When did I say you could buy it, anyway? And didn't I mention something about you not needing to prove you're nuts?"

Oliver shook his head. "I'm serious, Chlo. This place would make a sound investment and if you want in on it, then I'm sure we can work it out."

"We can, can we?"

"Think about it! The housing market is in the middle of a crisis with overpriced houses of poor quality for first-time buyers. A place like this? Diamond in the rough, Chloe."

"Not to rain on your parade, Ollie, but I'm a writer and not a real estate mogul."

This time when he grinned, it was with victory. "I'm Oliver Queen, baby. More specifically, I am a mogul who could make this quaint little surburban home into a goldmine."

Chloe took a sip of her coffee and purposely paused for a few moments. "You're going to donate your marrow, spend the night with my daughter, be a father, and buy my house. You gonna write my next book, too?"

"Well if I get a mention..." Oliver half joked. "I wouldn't be saying this if there was no opportunity here and there is opportunity. A big one."

"We're friends, but..."

He pounced on that before she could finish. "We could be friends with benefits, Chloe. Big benefits. As in college fund big."

She narrowed her eyes. "What's in it for you?"

Oliver tensed a little, not really wanting to play share with his feelings, but earning trust went both ways. She was trusting him to take care of their daughter, he could trust her with this. "A chance to be more than just my father's son. I can make this work and it will pay off. That I can guarantee. Whaddya say? You could be like my sidekick."

Seeing she was very uncertain, "Look, take some time to think about it. We all need money to live..."

"Down to your last twenty billion?"

The smile on her face softened her words and he smirked. "Yeah, yeah. Funny."

Chloe beamed. "Aren't I?"

Oliver rolled his eyes. "You're so funny, I'm dying."

"Die quietly, please. People see a dead body in _my_ house? I'll be suspect number one."

"I'll do my best," he said, smiling. "Just think about it, okay? It will be a great opportunity."

While he was thinking profit and college funds, she was thinking medical bills and aftercare. With those things in mind, it didn't take her long to make a decision.

"Sidekick to Oliver Queen, huh?" Chloe hoped to high heaven this was not a dumb thing to do. "I think I can live with that."


	10. 10

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Scorch  
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk  
Rating: Rated for adult content.  
Category: AU  
Content: Chloe/Oliver  
Summary: Donations come in all forms.  
Disclaimer: I own nixies.  
Distribution: Here, there, everywhere!  
Notes: Majorly dedicated to Slytherinpunk, who I've severely let down.  
Notes 2: This chapter has kicked my ass for three months and it wasn't until Al, Solo, and Strom helped me, that I got it on the right track. Thank every single damn one of you.

Oliver spent the entire drive to the hospital getting more and more nervous until he was in the parking lot, questioning his sanity.

What the hell did he think he was doing?

He'd never babysat in his life, so what made him think he could start now?

Chloe said Molly liked him, but did she really or was Chloe just saying that?

How did a person tell a story?

Did the hospital regulate bedtime or did the parents?

What if something did happen to Molly?

He gave his head a damn good shake. "I can do this," he said firmly and got out of the car, only just remembering to get the things Chloe gave him and made sure everything was accounted for.

Half a chocolate fudge cake? Check.

Pajamas? Check.

Cuddly toys and books? Check.

Head full of panic? Check.

Oliver rolled his eyes as he made his way into the hospital. He was such a goddamn pussy, it was disgraceful. Chloe had been doing this for years and one night was nothing in comparison to that.

 _Pull yourself together, Queen. You're a man, not a mouse_ , he thought. _Don't think about it, dude. Just let Molly set the pace and it'll be all good_.

Good self advice he figured as he waited for the elevator.

 _Besides, my folks have been babysitting for thirty three years. If they can do it, why can't I? But then again, I wasn't sick. Well, not that kinda sick. Plus there's nurses and shit here, so if something does go wrong, they're within yelling distance. Not that anything will go wrong, of course, cos it won't, but if it did_...

"Enough with the if's!" Oliver snapped at himself and casually smiled at the people now giving him odd looks.

It took some creativity for him to juggle his luggage and to press the intercom button at the same time. "Oliver Queen for Molly Sullivan."

Didn't take long for the door to be buzzed open and he was oh so thankful he had a foot to nudge it open and had an ass to keep it open as he slipped past it. If this sight made the papers, he'd be a damn laughing stock.

Oliver stopped at the check-in desk to let them know where Chloe was and found himself on the receiving end of a smile.

"We know, Mr. Queen," the nurse said. "Miss. Sullivan informed us."

Of course she did. "I'm staying with Molly tonight, so..."

"We know, Mr. Queen," her smile got bigger. "We were informed of that, too."

Of course they were. "Is there anything she hasn't informed you of?"

The nurse chuckled and for some reason, that chuckle made him suspicious. "Not at all, Mr. Queen."

Uh-huh.

"Well, I'm just gonna..." He gestured towards Molly's room and she nodded with that funny little smile still on her face.

Usually when he got funny little smiles, it was from people who recognised him and wanted one of four things. A date, to pick his brain, an interview, or an autograph, but something told him this nurse wanted none of those things and that made him suspicious.

Oliver left the desk with a forehead creased by a slight frown and wondered if the nurse knew something he didn't.

There was no time to put thought into it as a little girl giggle reached his ears and he paused long enough to let it sink that sound was not just any little girl giggle, but his daughter's. Molly Anne Sullivan was his daughter and that was his daughter's giggle.

He swallowed and couldn't deny the urge to turn and run.

Christ, what the hell was he thinking? Trying to play dad to a kid who thought of him as nothing more than a friend?

Seriously, what kinda man did that?

"Apart from a step-dad, that is," he mumbled.

Except he wasn't Molly's step-dad, he was her actual dad. The DNA test proved that he was and he didn't want to play at being dad, he wanted to be dad.

Oliver took a deep breath and walked into her room.

 **XOXOXO**

She was giggling and holding his dad's hand, thumbs in an intense battle for victory.

He took in the size difference and covered his laugh with a cough. "Am I interrupting?" He asked and watched her brown eyes light up.

"Ollie!" She exclaimed happily and looked behind him, a frown appeared when she didn't see who she was looking for. "Where's mommy?"

Oliver was about to reply when he noticed his dad also seemed to be looking for Chloe. "Where is Chloe, son?"

The look on his dad's face was somewhere between hopeful and excitement, a sight which made him rightly suspicious. More so than the nurse's funny little smile.

He answered both simultaenously. "Your mom's gone home for the night, Fishcake," he explained as he moved to sit in the chair next to the bed. "But I'm here to keep you company."

Molly nodded. "Aunt Lois is home, right? Mommy always stays at home for one night when aunt Lois is home. They have wine, but it's not very nice. It smells like mommy's nail paint."

Both Oliver and Robert chuckled. "Are you okay with me staying with you? We can play games and read stories and we even have chocolate fudge cake."

Brown eyes sparkled. " _Real_ chocolate cake?"

"Real, real chocolate cake," he said with a smile, a smile that turned curious as he looked at his dad. "I'll be picking Chloe up tomorrow morning, so I might be a bit late for work."

Robert waved it off. "Take the day off, son," and Oliver's brows touched the ceiling, but didn't get a chance to question it. "Did you know Chloe's an author?"

"Yes..."

"A _crime_ author," Robert exaggerated with a nod. "Esther Allred, in fact."

Oliver inwardly sighed and sent a mental apology to Chloe for whatever was coming her way. "Yes, dad. I did know and I know you have all her books."

 _Sorry, Sidekick. Get your autograph pen ready_.

Molly immediately looked to her new friend. "You have _all_ of mommy's books?" She asked, her voice filled with disbelief.

Robert nodded, quite proud of himself. "Every single one of them, sweetheart. My favourite is Two For Tea. There's a great twist near the end."

"Is that the book with the sighnide?"

How on Earth did a four year old know about cyanide? Robert coughed and looked to his son for help.

Oliver smothered a laugh at the expression on his dad's face and held up his hands. Now he knew how Chloe felt. "Don't look at me, dad."

Robert scowled. Damn sons. "Yes, princess. That's the one with the cyanide."

Molly pulled a face. "I didn't like that one."

Oliver smiled affectionately. "Which one is your favourite?"

She thought for a moment and Robert was taken aback by just how much like his son she looked. Brown eyes were slightly wrinkled, lips pursed, and fingers tapped her chin.

He glanced at Oliver, noting how his boy was looking at her, and yes. Molly could quite well be the best thing that ever happened to him.

 _To us all_ , he amended.

"I think mommy's new one is the bestest," Molly eventually said with a nod of finality. "But am not s'posed to tell."

Oliver wiped the smirk away as his dad's shoulders slumped in disappointment. "You wouldn't want the story to be ruined, right dad?"

Robert glared. This close to knowing something and he got nowhere. "One of these days, Oliver Jonas..."

"You have a middle name?" Molly asked curiously.

"I do," Oliver answered. "Jonas. Oliver Jonas Queen."

"My middle name is Anne," she told him quite seriously. "Molly Anne Sullivan. Mommy's middle name is Anne, too. Chloe Anne Sullivan."

"That's a very pretty name," Robert told her and was about to tell how his own mother was called Anne, but his cell phone buzzed and signalled time with his granddaughter was about to get cut short.

He sighed. "I won't be long, princess."

Oliver watched his dad leave the room, then turned to his daughter and rubbed his hands nervously. Though it was his idea to spend the night, he wasn't entirely ready to be left alone quite yet.

 _Please don't let my dad have too go to work. Please don't let my dad have too go to work. Please don't let my dad have too go to work_. "So..."

Molly looked at him expectantly.

Not really knowing what else to say, "You like your mommy's stories, huh?"

She nodded. "I like the one with the evil doctor and you said we have cake?"

The question instantly put him at ease and he chuckled. "Would you like some now or do you want to wait until later so you can have it with your bedtime story?"

Again, Molly deeply thought. "I think I'll wait until later."

"Ollie?" Robert poked his head round the door. "Did you send the contracts to Andrews yesterday?"

Oliver blinked. "Eleven on the dot. Why?"

His dad's expression was that of frustration and anger. "I swear that man is useless," and disappeared back out the door.

Molly looked at Oliver, curiosity once more on her face. "What do you do?"

He grinned, hardly unable to wait for her reaction to his wealth. "I work for my dad at Queen Industries."

"What's Queen Industys?"

"It's a big company that deals in all sorts of things."

"What sorta things?"

It started to dawn on Oliver that she was quite the curious George. "We buy little companies and make them bigger and better."

"Oh," Molly said like she understood. "How?"

"Well," he wondered how to explain this to a four year old. "When we buy them, they get special help to make more money."

"How much money?"

"Lots and lots of money, which we use to buy more companies and make more money."

"Oh," she said again. "What do you do with the money?"

Oliver grinned widely. "We spend it on cake!"

"Ollie, which email did you send it too? Andrews personal or company?" Robert asked, his expression clearly showed extreme displeasure.

"The company one," he replied and confusion slowly turned to realisation. "Oh, don't tell me that schmuck is blaming me?"

His dad nodded. "I'm afraid so, son," and then watched his boy tense.

Though Oliver was nervous as hell, he was not about to leave his kid just to go deal with some jackass who blamed his incompetance on everyone else. He now also fully understood what Chloe meant when she said about not letting her down. "I'm not leaving, dad."

Molly's eyes went wide and she tugged on his sleeve. He was leaving? They were supposed to have cake and watch movies. "Ollie?"

Robert arched a brow when Oliver's lips twitched momentarily before he looked to Molly. "You still have mommy's laptop, Fishcake?"

She nodded. "It's in there," and pointed at the bottom drawer of the bedside cupboard.

Andrews was so gonna pay for making his daughter pout.

Oliver slid the laptop out and had to chuckle at the butterfly stickers which covered the lid. "You wanna see what I do with silly people who can't do their job?"

Molly eagerly nodded. "Can I help?"

Robert gave his forehead a mental slap when his son beamed at her and said, "Course you can, sweetie. Now, what's your mommy's password?"

 **XOXOXO**

Robert Queen sat, head in hands, as his son and granddaughter verbally tortured one of the company's longest serving employee's. Sure, Thomas Andrews might be an absent-minded, incompetant idiot half the time, but he didn't deserve what he was getting right now.

"You hear that, Andrews?" Oliver snapped down the phone. "You're a silly boy who's silly and you have cooties."

Molly did as she was told and didn't hide her giggles. "You're taller than he is, Ollie. See?" She pointed to the Queen Industry's profile picture.

Robert groaned as his son winked before he spoke again. "And you're short," the immature insult was said with all the authority of a CEO. "You're so short, you make midgets look like Everest."

If this ever made the papers, stocks would either go through the roof or straight to hell, and he didn't know who to blame. Chloe, Molly, Ollie, his wife or himself.

There was a sqawked response that only Oliver heard and Robert didn't really want to know what made his son look once more to Molly.

"He has a big, giant nose."

Oliver barked out a laugh. He couldn't wait to tell Chloe how cool their kid was. _No matter what mommy says, Fishcake, daddy's getting you presents_. "Your nose is so big, you could smell poop on the moon."

"What have I raised?" Robert asked no-one in particular while Molly squealed with giggles.

"Ollie, Ollie," she grabbed his free hand just to show him a small spot on Andrew's chin. "Look! He has acme!"

"That's acne, Fishcake," he corrected even as he gave her the thumbs up. "You have spots and a big nose and cooties. You just have to be silly to have all those things."

Robert sighed, resigned to the fact there would be damage control tomorrow.

There was another affronted squawk followed by something that made his son's humour rapidly fade. "Watch your mouth, Andrews. I swear it."

At this, Robert stood up and went to stand beside his son just to hear what was being said on the other end, but only caught the end of it.

" _Brat_..."

Robert hadn't needed to go stand beside Oliver to hear as Andrews pretty much yelled it out, and neither had a chance to say anything.

"Yeah, well, you're a douche," Molly yelled back, then slapped a hand over her mouth and looked at her new friends with an expression that clearl said _oops_.

Andrews forgotten, Oliver stared at his daughter. "Where did you hear that word, young lady?"

Molly lifted her chin defiantly. "He called me a brat. I'm not a brat. Mommy says so and I'm allowed to stick up for myself. So there."

Robert hid his smile when pride showed on his son's face.

"You know what, princess? He is a douche and he's a douche who can't use email applications," Oliver ran his hand over Molly's smooth head and rubbed her back, mentally frowning when all he felt was bone. She had absolutely no fat on her at all and it made him die a little more inside.

He pushed that aside in order to concentrate on the problem at hand. "Since you basically suck at everything bar being an arrogant douche who throws insults at a four year old who can work a computer better than you."

"Cooties makes boys stupid," Molly told with a voice full of worldly advice. "Maybe he's really sick and has really bad cooties?" Her eyes widened. "What if he needs to be in a hospital?"

"Yeah," Oliver didn't bother to lower his voice. "A hospital with special padded walls. I sent you the contracts at eleven yesterday. You might wanna check your email for more than Facebook status updates rather than using me as your scapegoat."

Robert and Molly watched as a slow, wicked smile turned Oliver's lips up and gestured for his dad to go closer.

"I wanna..." Molly quickly fell quiet when a finger landed on her lips.

"Well?" Oliver asked, his grin firmly in place as he used his clearance code to override security and logged into Andrews company email inbox. "Have you checked your email for the contracts?"

Robert followed his boy's lead and searched through the unread emails to find what was wanted. Right there, at the very bottom of the page, was the proof that Andrews was an incompetent. He sighed and shook his head.

" _Of course I checked my email_ ," Andrews barked down the phone.

Before his son could reply to that statement, Robert snatched the phone away and walked out of the room. One, to do some damage control and two, to keep his granddaughter from hearing what he was about to say.

The girl already had already heard enough language as it was.

Molly grinned up at Oliver. "That was fun."

He returned it whole heartedly. "It was, wasn't it?"

She was silent for a moment. "Can we do it again?"

Oliver wondered how much pain Chloe was going to cause him. "Not tonight," he said quickly.

Her disappointment was visible. "Okay," she pouted like only a child could do.

"We still have cake," and as expected, she brightened.

"Can I give some to David?" Molly asked. "Mommy says I have to share with my friends. He hasn't been well today and cake will make him feel better."

He couldn't help the soft smile if he tried and he sat next to his daughter on her bed. "You share lots, don't you?"

"Mommy says being selfish isn't nice," she replied, then frowned. "I won't have to share my quarters, right?"

He chuckled as he smoothed his hand over her head and wondered how Chloe must miss having hair to stroke. "No, you don't have to share your quarters."

Molly's frown magically disappeared. "That's okay, I guess."

Oliver went to speak, but was cut off as his dad walked back in and glared at him. He offered up the most innocent grin he could muster.

Robert held up a finger. "Not one word, Oliver Jonas."

"Is Ollie in trouble?" Molly asked as she recognised the look.

"Yeah, dad," Oliver joined in. "Am I trouble?" So he was hiding behind a four year old. Sue him.

Robert narrowed his eyes at his son and then smiled benignly. "Of course not, son. You've just gotten another department to run. You should be congratulated."

What?

"Whoa there, sailor," Oliver's eyes almost left his head. "You can't do that!"

"What's that? What can't he do?" Molly asked, wide eyed.

"I'm your boss, son. I can do whatever I want and what I want is you in charge of accounting."

"But it's accounting," Oliver whined. "Accounting's boring."

"What's accounting?" Molly asked, desperation in her young voice.

"It's math class, Fishcake," Oliver explained while he glared at his dad.

Molly frowned at Robert. "Math sucks and Ollie didn't do anything wrong, Bobby. I made him do it." Ollie was her friend and it wasn't fair.

Oliver rolled his eyes. If Molly Sullivan had her way, she'd be responsible for World War III. "I got myself into trouble, sweetie," he told her and winked a wink that made her giggle. "Besides, I'll make more money to buy more cake."

Then he remembered.

"Aw, damnit," Oliver smacked his forehead. "I forgot. Dad, I won't be able to do it. I won't have the time."

Robert arched a brow. "Why won't you have the time?"

Oliver puffed up his chest. "I'm going into business."

His dad's other brow joined its twin. "Aren't you already in business?"

"Not like this," he replied as the excitement once again took hold. "Real estate."

Robert blinked. "Real estate."

"Yup!" Oliver beamed as he tugged his daughter close enough to hug.

"Explain," his dad half demanded. If this real estate thing put that look in his boy's eye, then it had to be good.

Oliver was about to launch into detail about it, but he remembered he was talking about his daughter's home and how she would have to move. His pride and excitement dimmed a little at the thought of Molly having to leave her childhood home. He slid his eyes toward her in the hope his dad would understand. "Can we talk about it tomorrow? There's cake to be had."

Okay, now Robert was really intrigued. His son was obviously dying to tell, yet something about Molly was stopping him. Something to do with real estate.

What did his son, Molly, and real estate have in common?

The answer came thick and fast for Robert. "Homes!" He half yelled and snapped his fingers. "You're looking at the property market. My guess is either first or second time buyers. Since you have little experience in this area, I think first. You do realise the market at this time, don't you?" He didn't bother to wait for an answer. "Of course you do. You wouldn't be my son if you didn't. You've seen a property worth investing in and you're buying it, renovating, and selling, aren't you?"

Molly looked up at Oliver. "Your dad talks fast."

Oliver scowled at his dad. "He also thinks fast. This is my idea and you can't have it."

A sly smile appeared on Robert's face. "Do you have a partner?"

Brown eyes narrowed. "Yes, I do."

"What capital has she put up front to start your business?"

Oliver's scowl deepened into a frown that creased his forehead. "What makes you think my partner is a she?"

Robert bit back the urge to smirk. "All these years and I still assume," he said and shook his head. "As long as you're not putting up all the capital."

"No, Chloe's putting the..." Oliver swore as he dropped himself in it. "Can we not do this now, dad?"

Robert went to say something, but decided it was better said away from little ears. He looked at Molly and smiled when he saw her snuggled quite happily against his son. No, he thought, her dad.

It was well known that time flew by within a blink of an eye, yet Robert never put much thought into it until now. Maybe because his son had never accepted much responsibility or because he chose not to see it or because his son never chose to show it, but now...

His son was sat there, holding his granddaughter and was looking into his own business, and he felt his eyes sting with heat.

Robert blinked away the knowledge that his son was not a boy anymore and smiled at his granddaughter. "Can I borrow him for a little while? We'll just be right outside."

 **XOXOXO**

Robert took his son to one side and placed a hand on Oliver's shoulder and squeezed. "Talk to me."

There were a few moments of silence only broken by heavy swallows that were accompanied by brown eyes that shone with tears. "I saw her bedroom, dad."

The older man frowned. "I don't..."

"Understand?" Oliver asked with a snap. "I didn't, either. Chloe has to sell because Molly will be in a wheelchair most of the time while she recovers and the house is just that. A house. She won't be strong enough to walk up and down all the time, the halls are too narrow for a wheelchair, and Chloe can't carry her up and down all the time."

Ah, Robert thought and refused to give pity or sympathy. Chloe and Molly certainly didn't need it. Especially now that they had his son in their corner. Still, this didn't explain the bedroom and if the bedroom didn't have meaning, Oliver wouldn't have mentioned it and he wasn't getting away without talking. "Now, tell me about her bedroom."

Oliver gave a quiet laugh. "Perfect for a little girl, ya know? Toys and pretty duvet and lotsa cushions, and a mattress that's made for excessive bed use. God, dad," he ran a hand through his hair. "I've stayed in five star hotels that are less comfortable."

Robert honestly didn't know what to say.

"She was just a baby when it started," Oliver looked at his father. "Her bedroom is the way Molly left it. _Tidy_. A four year old's bedroom is tidy with toys still in their boxes."

Robert kept quiet as his son pulled away. "I went to see Green, you know? He told me that... " He swallowed and got himself together. "He told me that this would be Molly's second time. Her second time, dad."

"God," Oliver shook his head. "She's four years old and she's been through hell twice and... I'm going to be a match. I know I am. I can save her. I can save my daughter."

"I can't lose it," he looked at his dad in a way that begged for help. "I can't. Molly is... She's mine. She's my daughter and I can't. Not now."

Hell, he couldn't lose Chloe.

If he lost one, he lost the other, and he just couldn't deal with that. She'd become a friend to him in the last week or so and he hoped it was vice versa. To say the least, it would hurt if...

Christ, he couldn't even think it.

Robert knew his son well enough to know when to step in and step in he did. He tapped Oliver across the face until he was satisfied his son had snapped out of his worrying. "You listen to me, Oliver Jonas Queen," he snapped and gave his son a harder tap on the face. "Don't you ever, ever talk like that again. You hear me?"

"But dad..." Oliver sighed. "If I can't save her..."

This time, Robert didn't just tap, he slapped his son. Right across the back of his idiotic head in an effort to knock some sense into that brain of his. "Stop talking stupid."

"Ow!" Oliver glared as he held the back of his head. "You haven't done that since I was 12!"

Robert shrugged. "You said something stupid then and you said something stupid now."

Oliver stared at his dad, wholly unimpressed. "I appreciate the sentiment," he deadpanned. Chloe's sentiments were much more fun and a lot less painful.

"As well you should," the elder Queen snapped. "Now pull yourself together, son. Your great-grandfather would be taking a cane to your behind, so yes. You should appreciate the sentiment."

Oliver wanted to roll his eyes, but he had a feeling his dad honestly meant it.

He sighed and ran a hand through his hair before he let out a long breath as his dad spoke again. "Did you manage a good talk with Chloe?"

"I did and we're going to tell Molly who I am..." Oliver drifted off as panic once again started to set in.

Robert honestly wasn't all that surprised. "Is that why you're babysitting?"

A rueful expression crossed his son's face. "I need to 'prove' my capability."

"Ahh..." came the reply of understanding. Then, "You've never babysat in your life."

Oliver's nervousness shone through as he scratched the back of his neck and chuckled. "Nope."

Robert stood in silence for a moment or two. "I wonder if I should go get the camera."

One thing was for sure, Molly was going to run rings around his boy.

 **XOXOXO**

Next time, Oliver thought as he watched the mess form, he was gonna buy a simple sponge cake with no sign of sauce or cream whatsoever. Crumbs were all over her bed and probably under the blankets, she had bits of cream and fudge around her mouth and face, and her hands were covered.

"Mmm..." Molly hummed as she swallowed the last piece of her last slice before she looked to him. "Can I have more?"

Remembering Chloe's stand on manners, "I don't know, can you?" He asked, quite pleased with himself. Plus, Chloe would be proud he kept up the consistancy.

The little girl huffed and brown eyes rolled. "May I have some more cake, please?"

"Good girl," Oliver grinned and handed over what was left of his slice. Being a pie kind of guy, most cakes were a bit too sickly for him, so it was no big loss on his part.

Molly eagerly took the paper plate, then more eagerly dug in her plastic Nemo fork.

Silence descended as she continued to eat, leaving him to sit back in his chair and just watch her.

It was strange, he realised. Her body and arms were nothing but skin and bone while her face was a little chubby with prominent cheekbones. He wondered if that had something to do with the leukemia or her medication.

He supposed it was a case of cause and effect. Leukemia caused the need for medication and the medication gave the effect.

His eyes followed those little arms down to where a tube could be seen from under her pajama top. It was thin and long with a clamp close to where it entered her skin, and he couldn't stop curiosity from raising its nosey head.

"It's my PICC line," Molly's voice made him jump a bit.

"What?" Oliver asked, his face burned with shame for staring. He should know better by know.

Brown eyes looked at him and a tiny smile appeared. "It goes near my heart and my medicine goes through it and it gets cleaned every few days and the bandaid gets checked everyday. Wanna see where it goes in? David says chicks dig scars."

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The amount of times he'd heart that line was unreal. "Sure you can show me, Fishcake."

She put her fork down and lifted the loose sleeve up, turning her arm enough for him to properly look at it. Though he couldn't see the entry because of the gauze dressing, but he didn't have too. Just seeing what he did was enough.

He wanted to touch it, to take it out and throw it far away from her, wanted to swap places so she didn't have to suffer. How many times had Chloe wanted to do those things? How many times had Chloe mentally prayed and prayed for it to be her and not her daughter?

Oliver knew as well as anyone that things like that couldn't done, but he never knew how hurtful that knowledge would be.

He kept his wince to himself and feigned a grin at Molly. "Cool," he said, forcing his grin that bit bigger. "Does it hurt?"

 _Please say no, please say no, couldn't handle it if she said yes_.

She responded to his light hearted attitude with one of her own. "It gets itchy sometimes, but that means I need a new bandaid. The special doctor who put it in said it wouldn't hurt cos of the... the..."

Oliver's fake grin turned real at the frustration now on her face.

Molly eventually huffed. "They said it wouldn't hurt."

"That's good it doesn't hurt," and she looked at him like he was stupid. "That is a good thing, right?"

"Don't you know anything?" She demanded, a honest to good scowl wrinkled up her forehead. "If it hurts, I get extra treats for being brave. David told me that if I pretend, I get lollypops."

It took a second or two for Oliver to realise just how much Chloe and David's parents were being played. He should tell them, really he should, but hell.

He couldn't help being proud of the sneakiness and besides, one of Molly's parents knew and could step in when needed.

"Wanna know a secret?" Oliver whispered as he leaned close.

Molly gave an oh so eager nod.

"I used to run so I could fall over and graze my knee just to get extra dessert."

Her mouth was quickly covered by two hands that hid her giggles. "I'll have to tell David."

Oliver's eyes widened. Maybe he shouldn't have said that. "No, no," he tried to prevent what would probably happen in the near future. "It was naughty. Very, very naughty. My mom used to get real sad when I got hurt."

She didn't so much as bat an eye. "It's just a grazed knee."

 _Crap, crap, crap, dumbass_ , he thought and quickly hurried on with explaining why doing that was wrong. Chloe was gonna string him up and kill him dead if she found out about this.

First night of babysitting his kid and he fed her ideas like that? He should be taken to court by child services and locked up and the key thrown away.

He was a damned health hazard to these kids.

Oliver shook his head. "It got infected once."

Molly nodded her head like she understood.

 _Of course she understood what an infection is, moron. She's probably had like a zillion_.

"It was really bad, Molly. Like really, really bad," and that got her attention, so he went with it. "It was so infected, it turned all green and smelly, right?"

She nodded, clearly hanging onto his every word.

"There I was, my knee all gooey and and totally gross, when it started hanging off..."

"Your knee was hanging off?" Molly asked, eyes wide. "What did you do?"

"Well," Oliver lazed back in his chair. "The nurses and doctors were throwing up all over and I had to hold my own knee. It fell off _twice_."

"That's gross!" She exclaimed loudly, joy in her childish voice. "Did it fall on the floor?"

"Went splat and _everything_!" He exaggerated and felt pretty damn good. Not bad for his first bedtime story.

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't be the choice of a soccer dad or whatever, but Molly seemed to like it.

"Cool," she breathed in total awe and couldn't wait to tell mommy what happened to Ollie's knee. "I bet you got lots of chicks wanting to see your scar," she paused for thought. "Can I see your scar?"

The only problem with lying through the teeth was not having evidence to back it up.

Oliver coughed as he tried to quickly think of a good enough reason why she couldn't see the scar. Excluding the fact he didn't actually have one. Well, he did, but it was smaller than his thumb nail and in no way described the horrors he told her.

"You can't really see it cos of my bandaid," he said.

Molly shrugged. "Tell the nurses it itches and then when they give you a new one, I can see it. Wait! I know!"

 _Oh CRAP_.

Oliver watched as his daughter reached over and pressed her help button before she turned back to him, beaming away like he wasn't gonna be made out to be a lying jackass.

"That button's for when I need nurses to come see me," she explained with all the maturity a four year old could manage. "Just pretend like me and David... I mean David and I."

There was no time for him to retract his stupid bedtime story as the same nurse from earlier entered the room and the instant she saw him, that funny smile of her reappeared.

She didn't give him a second glance as she walked towards Molly, her quick eyes giving the girl a once over. "What is it, porkchop?"

Despite the fact he was about to get caught out, the endearing term roused his curiosity.

"Porkchop?" Oliver asked with a smile.

The nurse's genuine affection was visible. "Just look at these cheeks," and tugged on his daughter's left cheek.

Molly scowled and tried to bat the woman's hand away. "Stop it, Nurse Myra! Go away!"

It warmed his heart to know that, despite stories in the papers and on TV, there were hospital staff who gave a damn about their patients and this Myra woman was obviously one of them.

He made a mental note to put her forward as a candidate for a nursing award.

Myra let go of the girl's cheek and laughed at the sheer dislike on that gorgeous little face. It wasn't professional to have favourites out of the patients, but Molly was a sweetheart. A scheming one, yes, but a sweetheart nonetheless.

Molly shook off her irritation of having her cheek pinched. "Ollie's bandaid is itchy."

Oliver swallowed when the nurse looked to him in genuine concern.

"His knee was hurt real bad and it fell off," his daughter helpfully told. "Twice. It went splat and everything. I think you should change it."

He focused on his shoes rather than see the expression that was no doubt on Myra's face.

"It did, did it?" She asked, genuine concern was rapidly replaced with a tone that simply dripped humour. "That must have been very painful, Mr. Queen."

Oliver's head snapped up in surprise. He thought for sure she was gonna drop him in it. "It was," his surprise shone through. "It really was. Molly said that if my bandaid was itchy, you'd give me a knew one and she could see my scar."

"Ahhh," Myra's blue eyes twinkled knowingly. "I'm afraid we'd have to change your bandaid away from Molly. I can't risk a cross-contamination."

"Aww," Molly huffed again and crossed her arms over her chest in a sulk.

The nurse lifted a finger, "But I can take a photo on my phone and show you after it's changed."

Her sulking magically stopped and a large grin full hope appeared. "Really?"

"Yes, really," the nurse paused. "It's not itchy, is it?"

Oliver reigned in his laughter when his daughter's hope deflated. "No, Nurse Myra. I just wanted to see the scar."

"I thought as much," the woman said through a laugh, then knelt down to Molly's level. "You know how it stings when you have your bandaid changed?"

She nodded.

"It wouldn't be very nice for someone else, would it?"

Molly lowered her head. "I guess... I just wanted to see it is all. I'm sorry, Ollie. I didn't mean for you to be stung."

Oliver didn't get a chance to feel guilty about lying to his daughter when Myra came to kneel down to his level. "And it isn't very nice to lie about injuries you don't have, is it Mr. Queen?"

He hung his head in shame. "I'm sorry, Molly. I didn't mean to lie and my knee didn't fall off."

Molly shrugged. "I guess it's okay."

"I do have a scar, though," and his daughter brightened.

Myra stood up, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "I'll leave you two to it, but don't you think you're getting off easy, Molly Anne Sullivan. I'll be coming back with your pills and if you haven't been on your best behaviour..." and shook a finger at the little girl.

Molly stuck her tongue out, an action which merely caused the nurse to chuckle as she left the room.

Oliver waited until the room door was closed before he started to roll up his jean leg, thankful he chose his baggy and most comfortable ones. When his knee was on show, he pointed to a visible white line that ran from just above his kneecap to just below. "I tripped over a tree branch when I went looking for conkers."

"You got conkers?" She asked, more awed than she was at hearing about his knee falling off.

He was about to say yes when he realised that his daughter would never have been able to go looking for conkers, much less than play the game. How much of childhood had she missed out on, was going to miss out on?

Oliver thought for a second and given the time of year, getting her conkers wouldn't be a problem. "You wanna play conkers, Fishcake?"

Molly nodded.

"Allow me..." and he slipped his phone back out of his pocket and pressed 3 for speed dial. It didn't take long for Bart to answer.

" _Dude! Where are you_?"

"At the hospital with Molly. Listen, I need a favour."

" _The Bartman is here at your service. What can I do for ya, man_?"

Oliver rolled his eyes at the over enthusiastic response. "Can you round some good conkers for Molly and me, please?"

Molly tugged on his sleeve. "Can David have some, too?"

He rolled his eyes again. "And David."

" _You came to the right place. Went out and got some today before work. If I win, A.C gets the booze in. Did I hear your kid_..."

"Thanks, Bart," and Oliver hung up before Bart could say anything more.

Molly was grinning ear to ear when he looked at her. "You'll play conkers with me?"

"I'm not only gonna play conkers with you, I'm gonna win," he said with confidence.

"Nuh-uh!"

"Yuh-huh!"

She shook her head. "No way!"

Oliver nodded. "Yes way! I play conkers all the time with my friends."

Molly went to say something else, but she stopped and stared at him.

He was no stranger to the calculating looks on a woman's face and they didn't scare him in the least, but from a four year old with a love of all things gory and gruesome? Yeah, he was scared.

"If you win lots, can you teach me? I can beat David if you teach me how."

Oliver's curiosity made itself known again. "You like your friend David, don't you?"

Molly nodded. "He doesn't get out of bed a lot, but he's funny. He does stuff so the nurses have to come look at him." She paused. "Though he doesn't like it as much when Nurse Colin goes to look. I don't know why, cos Nurse Colin always makes me laugh."

"Does he have leukemia, too?"

Her forehead once again wrinkled up. "He has sir ee bal paul see and loo kee mee... Same as me."

Cerebral palsy?

Oliver figured that couldn't be a good combination. Not that he knew anything about cerebral palsy to make such an assumption, but never mind. After being around Molly for a short while, he was of the opinion that anything involving leukemia wasn't good.

"Tell you what, Princess," he said eventually. "I'll go cut your friend some cake and then we'll take it to him. How does that sound?"

Molly brightened. "Can we borrow a DVD to watch on mommy's laptop?"

Oliver didn't think Chloe would appreciate his encouraging the girl, so he chose his words carefully. "That depends on the movie," then he sat back and watched his daughter silently work out how she could get her own way in the matter and chuckled quietly.

Unlike her mother, the kid stood no chance of that with him.

 **XOXOXO**

He was so very thankful he had a good armspan, though not so thankful he was 6'3.

He'd been slightly hunched since Molly and himself had left her room to take her friend some cake. Not that he minded, of course, but hell if it wasn't uncomfortable holding the hand of a pint sized kid for ten minutes straight.

Oliver smiled down at the sight of her and the little boy in him recoiled from the cuteness of it all.

One teeny tiny hand in his and her other clutched a paper plate like someone would come take it away, while Nemo rested comfortably under her arm.

Molly led him to a closed door and he wondered if it was closed for a reason.

"Maybe David's asleep..."

She shook her head. "His door is only closed when he's watching stuff. He doesn't like noise disrobing his movies."

"Disturbing," he automatically corrected before he shook his head. "We shouldn't..." but it was too late.

Molly had already let go of his hand and opened the door without knocking only to stand still. "You're watching Terminator?"

Was it him or was she mad at her friend?

"You were s'posed to wait for me!"

Yep, definitely mad.

"You told on me!"

Molly looked ready to either scream, shout, cry, or throw something.

"No I didn't!"

Okay, so shouting it was.

Oliver saw his daughter's face go from scowling to thunderous in the matter of seconds. Having been on the receiving end of a Sullivan's temper, he quickly stepped forward and stepped in.

"Actually, I was the one who told on both of you," he held up his hand and looked as guilty as he could.

Blue eyes peered at him from under floppy blonde hair and Oliver watched the suspicious expression fade before the boy turned back to Molly.

"I guess I'll forgive you," David mumbled as he pressed pause on his DVD player. "I can start from the beginning?"

"You will?" Molly asked as her guilt instantly faded. "I bought you some cake. See? It's real chocolate with real fudge. Look," and held out the paper plate.

When she did, Nemo fell to the floor.

"I'll get it for you," David said and started to shift himself towards the edge of the bed.

Oliver was about to say he'd get, but he knew better than to undermine his daughter's friend. Still, "You need a little help there, buddy?"

David looked at him. "Can you move my chair a bit closer, please?"

"Course I can," and did as he was asked.

"Molldemort," David said as shifted into his chair. "You wanna start from Terminator 1?"

"Stop calling me Molldemort!" Molly yelled and scowled. "You know I don't like Harry Potter. It's stupid!"

"You only think it's stupid cos you can't ride a broom," David snapped. "You're still a witch!"

"Yeah, well, you cry at Freddy!" Molly snapped right back and then turned to Oliver. "He does, you know. He cries all the time. Boo hoo Freddy's coming to get me boo hoo and then and then and then he cries at Jason..."

"Molldemort! Molldemort! Molldemort!"

"Stop calling me Molldemort!"

Oliver saw it happen in his head, but his brain sort of slowed it down and there was nothing he could do until it was over.

David got his piece of cake alright, except he was wearing it and then bits of the remains were being thrown left and right.

"Erm... Guys?"

No effect.

Oh crap.

Molly giggled as she slapped a tiny piece of cake into David's face, then he responded by slapping fudge sauce over her bald head.

Oliver responded by wondering how the hell he was gonna explain this to two mothers. "Please, guys!" Chloe was gonna ban him forever.

He tried to back out of everything, but cream cake was more slippery than a banana skin and oh _God_! Landing on the coccyx was damn painful.

On the plus side, the food fight had stopped.

"If you two keep quiet, I'll keep quiet," Oliver bargained as he picked his bruised ass up off the floor.

Molly and David were both looking at him with guilt on their faces.

"I'm sorry, Ollie," his daughter was the first to speak. "It was my fault. I threw David's cake."

"It wasn't her fault, Mr. Queen," David was next. "I blamed her for snitching. I knew we'd get caught."

There was a pause.

"Is there cake left for David?"

"Can Molldemort still watch Terminator?"

Oliver felt a dull throb start in his head If these two were 30 year old males, he'd tell them where to go and what to do when they got there. As it happened, they weren't 30 year old males, they were pre-teen kids who were programmed to drive him nuts.

He didn't get a chance to say or do anything as David's voice sounded.

"Here's Nemo, Molly," the boy said. "I've wiped the dust off him for you."

Molly's face lit up as she half grabbed her toy. "Here that, Nemo," she talked to her toy. "He dusted you. Now say thank you..." She pointed the toy at her friend. "Thank you, David."

"Yeah, yeah," David mumbled as he moved his wheelchair back towards his bed, but he didn't get in it. He wasn't stupid. Their little food fight meant they both needed to be bathed.

He looked at his friend. "Wanna come back after bathtime and we'll watch from Terminator 1 to 3?"

Molly eagerly nodded. "I wanna see the explushuns."

David grinned. "Oh, there's loads of explosions! There's even a big giant crane that knocks down stuff and then they go into a warehouse and there's loads of guns and everything."

Molly tensed her little body right up and said with everything she had in her, "I'll be back."

Oliver was too busy thinking of ways to make him look like the good guy in all this when the boy's words hit him like a ton of bricks.

Bathing.

"Ollie, Ollie," he felt the tugging on his sleeve, but didn't want to acknowledge what it meant.

He looked down at his cake covered daughter and swallowed heavily. "Yes, Fishcake?"

"I need a shower so me and David..." she huffed. "David and I can watch Terminator."

David stated, "An hour?"

Ah, time.

Time would keep his mind off bathing a little girl.

Oliver snapped in a breath. Three movies, roughly two hours long each, would mean they'd be up until yond time. Throw in an hour's bathing and it would be later still. "It'll be pretty late..." he said, eyes going from girl to boy and back again.

"We don't really have a bedtime, Ollie," Molly told him. "Do we?"

David shook his head. "We go to bed whenever we want."

 _Riiiggghhhttt_.

"See?" It wasn't a question. "Cos we don't get out a lot, we get to stay up all the time."

Oliver wasn't dumb enough to fall for that one. "An hour to get clean, then one or two movies, but not all three."

"But..." Molly tried again. "But it's a special ohhcayshun and you can watch them too, right David? Ollie can watch them too?"

David nodded. "Yeah and we can watch the bonus stuff, too and my mom got me some Goobers yesterday so we can have those to eat."

"See, Ollie? You can watch them and we can have fun."

Oliver was honestly torn.

They both looked so hopeful and excited, that he really wanted to say yes and let them have their way. Yet on the other hand, Chloe was trusting him with Molly and if she found out he did let them have their own way, she might get angry.

Really, really angry.

Christ, he was a sucky parent.

"Alright," Oliver shushed the sudden noise with a raised finger. "But just this once, okay?"

Molly and David both gave solemn nods of understanding. "Just this once. Promise and cross my heart, stick a needle in my eye. We'll be back soon," and grabbed Oliver's hand to drag him back to her room for a shower.

Chloe was gonna have his guts for garters.

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver cringed inside as his daughter started to undress herself.

She had sat herself on her bed so she could take off her slippers, his mind offhandedly taking notice of her bunny slippers and made a mental note of what to buy her for Christmas.

 _Yeah, Queen_ , he thought to himself, _think of Christmas_.

Then he wished he hadn't thought of Christmas.

That was in a few months and he hadn't even planned what to get for the family he did know, let alone the family he didn't. Not to mention having missed out on four Christmases with Molly and Chloe.

What had they done for Christmas?

Been suffering in hospital while he was out and about, partying and being a jackass? Or had they stayed at home while he'd been out and about, partying and being a jackass?

Either way, Chloe and Molly mustn't have had a very good Christmas.

He gave a mental shrug.

A shiny new pair of bunny slippers was a start to making this year's festive season rock their socks.

Speaking of socks...

Oliver physically turned away as she took those off next.

Her pajama bottoms were gonna be after that and after that, it'd be her underwear, and then her top, and then she was going to be naked.

Weren't there laws about a 30 year old man being in a room with a naked four year old?

He didn't wanna do this.

He couldn't do this.

"Ollie?"

 _Oh God, please don't let her ask. Please, please, please don't let her_...

"Can you help get my jammies off, please?"

 _Ask_.

He could call his mom, offer to pay for a cab and donate a year's salary to the Wishing Star foundation if she would come and do this one little thing.

"Ollie?"

Oliver gulped and pretended not to feel his forehead sweat.

He turned his falsely smiling face to Molly. "Sure I will, Fishcake," and internally cried when she lifted her legs, ready for him to pull off her jammies.

He knelt down in front of her and came face-to-face with two itty bitty feet with ten itty bitty toes. They were so tiny and cute and it was probably wrong to wanna bite them, but never mind.

 _Keep those thoughts to yourself or risk Child Services_.

Ahh, hell.

He just couldn't help himself.

Oliver trapped one little foot and blew a very noisy, very ticklish raspberry which made Molly shriek and try to pull her foot away.

"Off! Off!"

No damn way!

"I gotcha now, kid!"

He did it again and again, her free foot constantly kicked him in the chest, but it was less than a bee sting.

He gave her a wicked look. "I think I'll put em in sandwiches and eat them alllllll up...."

"No!" Molly squealed and tried to squirm away. "Leave alone!"

"Toe sandwiches... Yum!"

Molly suddenly stopped, brown eyes wide as they looked at him. "You're trying to fatten me up," she accused. "Like the mean old witch in Hansel and Gretel."

Surprised, Oliver let go of her foot only to have her laugh in his face and scamper away.

"Made you let go!" Then he got the lovely sight of a large tongue pulling.

He narrowed his eyes and turned hands into a mockery of gnarled witch's hands and turned his voice into a wicked cackle. "I'll get you, my pretty! You and your little dog, too!"

"No!" Molly basically yelled at him and ran around her bed, a move which simply made him stand and give chase.

Oliver caught her before she made it out of her room. "Mwahaahahahaaaa..."

Her high pitched little girl voice giggled and shrieked as her little body vibrated as she tried to get down. "Lemme go! I'll tell your mommy on you!"

Laughing, he set the sneak down, then laughed some more as she ran back behind her bed.

Maybe he wasn't such a sucky parent, he thought. Sure Chloe was gonna kill him when she found out he let Molly stay up, but right now he didn't give a crap.

"C'mon, Fishcake. Lets get you cleaned up so you can go watch your movies."

Then he paused for a moment as he wondered how many kids were on the ward. He had gotten Molly and her friend a treat, but felt like the other kids were left out.

He'd help Molly bathe and take her to David's room, then he'd go talk to Myra and see about getting some goodies for everyone else.

Then Oliver paused again.

It felt better to spend his money on pizza and soda and dessert than it was to spend it on alcohol and Armani.

"Way better," he muttered to himself.

"Hurry, Ollie," Molly's voice pulled him from his thoughts. "David's waiting."

"Well, I was ready, but you wanted to play," Oliver feigned chastisement.

"You were gonna eat my toes!"

"I still might if you don't get in that bathroom..."

Molly screeched and pretty much ran into the bathroom, leaving him to dawdle after her.

This parenty thing was pretty awesome if he said so himself, only to stop when he saw her struggling with her jammies again.

Maybe not so awesome, he thought as he knelt down and prepared to get himself arrested.

"Wait, wait," she said. "You hafta let the cold water run through first so it's nice and warm."

"Aye, aye, sir," Oliver saluted as he stood to turn on the tap when he noticed it was a shower/tub combination, which meant he was gonna have to lift her in.

Okay.

Helping her undress was one thing, but touching her was something completely different.

For a start, she'd be naked and he definitely knew there were laws about 30 year old men touching naked four year olds.

 _Oh man, oh man, I'm gonna be in the papers_.

Oliver focused on his pilates and yoga breathing techniques in order to keep from running for the hills.

 _Steps, dude, take it in steps_.

"Step One, turn on the tap..." Tap turned on and time for Step Two.

"Step Two, take off your daughter's jammies..."

Oliver plastered another false smile on his face as he went back to Molly. His hands touched the waistband of her bottoms and he just went for it and pulled them down. "Left foot first, Fishcake."

"You didn't say one, two, three," she complained in a whiny tone as she lifted her feet out. "You're s'posed to say one, two, three and then pull them down, but it's okay. You're a boy and didn't know better."

"I'll know for next time, princess," he said though a smile that was as fake as his bravado.

Step Three, take off her jammie top, only this time he did know better.

Oliver took hold of her jammie top, "On three... One, two, and..."

Molly held up her arms, but her top didn't come off.

"I didn't say three," he laughed when she scowled. "Okay, on three for real this time... One, two, three..."

He slipped her top completely off and oh.

An imaginary lightbulb above his head sparkled to life.

He could leave her underwear on and still bathe her.

 _Why didn't I think of this before_?

"Lets get you into this shower..."

Molly frowned in confusion. "But I'm not fully undressed yet."

Oliver paused for a split second. "You're undressed enough. C'mon and I'll lift you in..."

"My pants will be wet and I can't have wet pants," she complained again. "David will think I've peed myself."

Damn.

He never thought of having to put dry pants on her after.

 _Just get it over and done with, Queen. Just take off her panties and be done with it and don't ever call them panties. She's four. She wears overnighters. Girls in clubs wear panties, Chloe wears panties. Your daughter does not wear panties_.

Oliver took in a deep breath and pulled down her underwear, then made a point to look at anything bar his daughter.

His naked four year old daughter.

"Hafta be quick now, Ollie. David will watch Terminator without us."

Right.

Yes.

David and Terminator.

Oliver, picturing Arnie in his head, looked at his daughter with yet another fake smile that started to slowly fade.

She looked so vulnerable like that, stood in front of him and trusting him to help her, to take care of her, to protect her.

Molly might not know he was her dad, but she had the same expectations. All kids would expect that from adults, but...

Oliver swallowed back bile.

There were adults out there who took advantage of that trust, of the unconditional love, and if anyone, and he meant anyone, tried that with his daughter, there'd be hell to pay.

"Hey, Fishcake," he started before he wondered if he had the right to do this. "I want you to make me a proper promise, okay?"

She frowned in confusion, but nodded.

Oliver hoped he wasn't over stepping his boundaries. "I want you to promise to tell if someone tries to make you do something you don't wanna do."

Molly blinked. "Like when I don't want medicine?"

He shook his head. "No, princess. If someone touches you in a way that makes you feel funny or... Or yucky, then I want you tell."

She nodded. "Okay, Ollie."

"I mean it, Molly Anne. Even if that person makes you promise not to tell. Especially if that person makes you promise not to tell. This is serious, baby. Like..." Oliver hated himself for using her own illness against her, but he wanted to drum it into her head just how serious he was. "You know how you seriously need your chemo?"

"My chemo is very serious," she replied a little too worldly for her young age.

"I'm chemo serious," he took hold of her arms and figured a demonstration would be more help. "See how I'm touching you here on your arms?"

"Yeah and your hands are cold."

He would have laughed if he wasn't being deadly serious. "Well, when your mommy or me or your doctors and nurses touch you like this, it's okay. If someone else touches you in a place you don't like, then you tell and if we're not here to tell, then you scream and shout until somebody hears you, okay?"

"You mean like bad people who take kids?"

Oliver wanted to smack himself stupid.

He forgot he was talking to Chloe's kid. The same kid who knew how cyanide worked, about real life evil doctors, and was probably the basis for the killer kid in Chloe's new story.

"Yes," he said, a little down that his first parentish talk was as good as useless. "Yes, I mean bad people."

Molly patted him on the shoulder. "It's okay, Ollie. I'll just stick them with my serious chemo."

Oliver ran the facts of his first night with his daughter.

Gave her three slices of chocolate cake.

Letting her stay up late.

Letting her watch Terminator 1 to 3.

Keeping quiet about her temper tantrum.

Encouraging her to inject chemo into someone.

"Yep," Ollie said as he lifted his daughter into the tub. "Chloe's gonna kill me."


	11. 11

Title: Dragonfly Wishes and Butterfly Kisses  
Author: Me!  
Email: Miss_Incognito4@live.co.uk  
Rating: Rated for adult situations.  
Category: AU  
Pairing: Chloe/Oliver  
Disclaimer: I own nothing.  
Distribution: This place, my place, and wherever else! Just tell me where I can find it!  
Notes: A big, giant THANK YOU to Strom, Solo, and Al for their much needed help. You lot are beyond words :-D

A high pitched girlish giggle pierced his brain, the sound pulled him from the final stages of sleep and he groaned, body tried to roll over, but a sharp pain shot through his muscles.

Okay, so sleeping in a chair wasn't such a great idea after all.

"We could pour water on him," another voice came. More adult, less familiar, but just as mischievious.

"That would be naughty," the little girlish voice said with another set of giggles.

"Not naughty," adult voice said. "Fun, yes, but not naughty."

"Ollie's a nice man and he's gonna buy me a bowl for my fish. It wouldn't be very nice to pour water on him."

"Buy you a bowl, huh? That's very nice of him. Still think we should pour water on him."

More girlish giggles and he didn't have to look to know Molly was shaking her head. "Mommy would be mad if we poured water on him."

"Ollie would be mad, too," and he cranked open one sleepy eye that went from his daughter to the woman in the room, then watched her smirk.

"Good morning, Sunshine."

The other eye cranked open and he was able to get a good look at her. The hair was much longer than Chloe's and she was a fair bit taller, but the eyes never lied. Same shape, slightly different shade of green, similar face structure, yet different.

"You must be Lois, right?" Oliver slowly sat in the chair, easing out the kinks caused by an uncomfortable night's sleep in a chair. "I'm..."

"Oliver Queen," she stated. "I know."

Molly giggled again. "Aunt Lois says mommy's not very well today and that you gave her some wine and the wine made her bad."

Oliver chuckled as he ruffled his hair with hands. So Chloe was hungover, was she? He mentally applauded her for actually letting her hair down. "Think she'll be mad at me?"

"She's cursing the ground you walk on, Sunshine," Lois grinned while her shoulders shook. "I, however, am thanking you from the bottom of my heart. Her bedhead was something to behold."

His legs complained when he stretched them out. Never again was he sleeping in a chair, hyper daughter to entertain or no.

 _Note to self, never give more than one piece of cake to a four year old. Ever_.

"What time is it?" He asked.

"About half seven, just in time for meds. Which," Lois gave his daughter a meaningful glance. "Will be taken without fuss or muss. That understood?"

Molly sat straight as possible and gave a salute. "Ma'am, yes, ma'am. Is uncle General coming today?"

Lois beamed in pride while Oliver arched a brow. "Not today, corporal," and she purposely waited until her niece's face showed disappointment. "But he did send you these..."

Oliver's other brow joined its twin when out of a bag came a child size fatigue outfit complete with wings, beret, and little black boots. He just knew his mom would love to see the girl in those, but unfortunately she was spending the day declining invitations for up and coming parties and dinners.

He wondered if Molly would be allowed out for a few hours.

Molly gasped in delight and clapped her hands, the sound jolting him out of his gatherings. "I love uncle General! Can I put them on?"

Oliver was straight in there. "I don't know, can you?"

"Not another one," Lois groaned. "Bad enough Chloe does it, but you too?" She didn't wait for an answer. "Have you had your morning bathtime yet?"

He sucked in a breath at the very mention of the word, brown eyes widened in terror at the thought of doing it again. Sure last night hadn't been that bad, but he'd felt like a total cretin for having to do it and wasn't entirely sure he could it again so soon.

He looked at Lois in a silent plea for help and felt like a ten ton bag crap when her green eyes rolled.

"What is it with you men? Seriously. Uncle Gabe had to get my mom to change Chloe's diapers, the General had to get one of the female sergeants to change mine."

Oliver didn't know how to reply and thankfully he didn't have too.

Lois sighed. "Into the bathroom, soldier. Quick march. Left, right, left, right, left."

"Ma'am, yes, ma'am."

He watched, half amused, as Molly did as told and marched into the bathroom, her little arms and legs perfectly mimicking a soldier's walk. He shook his head and looked at the aunt, and grumbled. "Where were _you_ last night?"

"Gave you the run-a-round, did she?"

"Like you wouldn't believe."

The woman's expression softened momentarily. "That's my girl. Now, you go do whatever Oliver Queens do while I sort that one out."

He gave her a grateful smile as he slowly got out of the chair, his neck muscles pulled and backbone popped. "Damn," he grunted, hands gripped his lower spine while he bent forwards then backwards in an effort to get some life into his body.

"That won't help," Lois said with a smirk. "I've slept in that chair enough times to know the only thing that'll work is a hot cup of coffee... Or a stiff vodka, but that's just me."

Oliver resisted the urge to roll his eyes. "Coffee sounds good. Where does Chloe keep her stuff in the family room?"

"The necessities belong to everyone in here. You use the last, you buy the next."

He nodded his understanding. "I'll come straight back."

Unlike him, she didn't resist in rolling her eyes. "Yeah, yeah. Whatever, daddyo."

"For God's sake, lower your voice!" He hissed. "Molly doesn't know yet!"

Lois shrugged. "Good."

Oliver frowned. "What do you mean good? What's good about her not knowing I'm her..." He took his own advice and lowered his voice as he spelled it out. "F A T H E R?"

"What's good about her knowing?"

Was she serious? "Are you seriously asking that?"

"Did I ask it?"

Well, "Yeah."

She didn't even blink. "Then I seriously asked it."

Oliver rubbed his forehead. It was far too early for a conversation like this.

"I'd have dropped and gave the General fifty by now. I want an answer now, soldier."

Just who did she think she was talking to?

"I'm talking to you," and he wondered if he'd said his thoughts out loud. "A rich kid who's never known a hard day's work in his life. Now answer me, boy, or I'll drop you myself."

Oliver glanced at the bathroom in an effort to remind her there was a little girl who might hear things. "I'm not having Molly hearing this," he kept his voice low and calm, but gave the aunt an expression that told he took no crap. "You pick your bone when my daughter isn't in hearing distance."

Lois pursed and unpursed her lips once or twice. "Personally, I woulda told me to eat dirt, but that works."

Huh? "Huh?"

"I guess we can both blame the stoned employee and thank God Molly got her smarts from the good gene pool."

"What?"

"Did you hear anything I said? Of course not. You just woke up. Go have a cup of coffee or tea or whatever pretty rich boys have when they open their eyes. Oh, Chloe wants to know what time are you picking her up cos her head? Not so good and again, thank you for that."

Oliver blinked and made a mental note never to cross either a Sullivan or a Lane girl again. One alone was bad enough, but he imagined the two of them together and figured he'd be in a mental asylum by noon tomorrow.

He shook his head to clear it of the confusing fog and aimed his feet in the direction of the family room. As crazy as Miss. Lane obviously was, she hit the nail on the head when she told him he needed a hot cup of coffee.

He grinned.

A stiff vodka would be better.

 **XOXOXO**

He walked past the nurses station when he caught site of nurse Myra and lowered his head in shame when she wiggled her fingers. No doubt Chloe would find out he'd told whopping lie to Molly which, knowing Chloe, would lead to a dramatic retelling of it while she laughed.

"You don't have prove you're nuts, Ollie," Oliver mimicked as he entered the family room, suddenly feeling nervous when he saw it was filled with other parents.

He swallowed as he glanced around, hoping to see a familiar face, but he didn't.

Well, not until a red haired young woman walked up to him with a steaming mug in her hand that she held out to him.

"You must be Oliver," she said, her eyes crinkling at the corners and he was instantly put at ease. "I'm Denise, David's mother."

His easy feeling quickly disappeared when memories of last night's little cake fight came flooding back.

Determined not to let it phase him, he took the offered gift gratefully. "Thank you, Mrs...?"

She chuckled and waved off the formality. "Denise," she told him. "I stopped by Molly's room earlier to see if you wanted some breakfast, but you were sound as a top."

Oliver responded with his own chuckle. "Yeah, sugared up children can wear a man out it seems."

A knowing gleam sparkled in the woman's eyes. "Ah, yes," she stated in a way that told him she knew about the incident. "Chocolate fudge cake if I'm not mistaken."

He cringed inside. "There may have also been some movies," and when he said some, he meant three and all involving copious amounts of violence and explosions.

Denise openly laughed. "Sadly, there isn't much for the kids to do bar watch television or play on those handheld thingymabobs. Lord knows David can work any put in his hand, but I struggle to use the DVR."

This time it was Oliver who openly laughed. "My dad is exactly the same," he confessed. "My mom's showed him time and again, but..."

"Which must be an endless source of amusement for you. Given your father owning one of the most technologically advanced corporations."

"I've never thought of it like that," Oliver mused. "But I will be."

Denise chuckled humourously. "Thirteen or thirty, children are always children."

"Thanks," he remarked dryly. "Speaking of children, do you think it'd be okay if Molly would be allowed out today?"

The woman took in a deep breath and was quiet for a short while. "That's quite a task, Mr. Queen."

"Please," he waved away the formality much like she did. "It's Ollie."

Denis placed her hand on his arm and squeezed. "There's a lot to think of," she explained as kindly as she could. "Not just Molly's access needs, but..."

"Not all day, of course," he explained, knowing what she was saying. "Just a few hours to pick Chloe up and have lunch at my home."

"Ahh," she nodded and tapped her fingers against her mug in thought. "Your best bet would be to ask Myra. Jaques would give you the third degree and you'd be here this time next year. She's an excellent sister, but what men would call a ballbreaker."

Oliver winced. "Yeah, I kinda got that. I just want to find out before I get Molly's hopes up is all."

Denise smiled her approval. "Understandable. They'd have to run some tests on her before making any decisions."

He sighed and nodded.

Sympathy shone in her gaze. "We've all been there, Ollie. Wanting to take our children home, even just for an hour, but it's not worth the risk."

She was right, he knew, but that didn't mean it wasn't disappointing. More than disappointing, in fact. It was downright cruel. "Still sucks," Oliver grumbled and cursed the day leukemia arrived on Earth.

"I have other ways of saying that," Denise agreed. "But yes, it does suck. What sucks more are cinemas that cut corners on cleanliness."

His curiosity must have shown on his face as she elaborated. "I was given permission to take David to FilmWorld to see Avatar in 3D. They promised, promised me they would go through the place with a fine tooth comb."

It was plain to see that this was a very sore point with Denise and he genuinely felt for the woman who had not only paid good money for the tickets, but also made sure her son would be safe enough to have a little bit of fun.

Screw Denise, it made him angry that a cinema like FilmWorld wouldn't go that extra mile to make certain their place was decently clean.

Oliver found himself making the offer before he could stop himself. "If and when David gets better, he can come watch it on my 3D TV," but then what about the other kids on the ward?

When would they have a chance to go to the cinema?

"Better yet," he said and nodded more to himself than to Denise. "Leave it with me."

If TV and games were what these kids had to relieve chronic boredom, then they would have coolness in the ward before they could blink and by coolness, he meant the subzero kind of coolness. Wasn't like he couldn't afford it or anything and what were a few thousand bucks to him, anyway?

A new pair of shoes and jeans from his favourite store?

Exactly, Oliver thought and downed the rest of his coffee, something which really wasn't a good idea since it was still damn hot. He handed the mug back to Denise, "Thanks for that," he said and was about to walk away. "Don't tell anyone yet. It's gonna be a surprise."

Denise had no choice except to watch Oliver Queen leave the family room with a skip in his step. She didn't have a clue what he was planning and though he said not to tell anyone, she figured she better give Chloe a warning that the man was up to no good.

 **XOXOXO**

His first stop on the way back to Molly's room was the nurses station, where he prepared to come face-to-face with the same nurse who gave him a talking too last night. With a little luck, Myra would have forgotten all about that and not tell Chloe he'd basically lied through his teeth to his daughter.

Oliver cleared his throat to catch Myra's attention. "Excuse me," he started. "I was wondering if it'd be possible to take Molly Queen out for a while today."

He saw Myra arch a brow and was quick to clarify what he meant. "I've gotta go pick Chloe up from home and thought it'd be nice if Molly came for a ride out, then lunch at my home. My mom can have the place cleaned right up."

The nurse sighed as she put down her clip board. "Mr. Queen," she stated softly. "It's not just about cleanliness."

"I know Molly has access needs and all cos of her chair and sure there are stairs in my place, but I can carry her so she doesn't walk and get tired." _Please let my daughter be allowed out for a few hours. Please, please, please_.

Much like Denise, there was sympathy in the woman's eyes and what little hope he had began to die. Still, he had to try. "I'll wrap her up warm and take her medication with me. All instructions will be followed. Cross my heart."

"Mr. Queen," the nurse said again. "I'd love to be able to say yes, but you have to think about Molly. Is she well enough in herself? Does she want to go out?"

That stopped Oliver's next bargaining chip.

He honestly didn't think about Molly, not really. He just wanted to see her out of her hospital and have her home, just like all the other parents wanted to have their kids at home.

Once a selfish prick, always a selfish prick he guessed.

Myra covered his hand with hers. "You're not being selfish, Mr. Queen. Molly is well known for not wanting to do much."

Oliver stared at the nurse for a second. "How did you know what I was..."

"I've worked here for the better part of ten years," she replied as though that explained everything. "Chloe knows as well as I that Molly is a little monster for blaming her lethargy on her leukemia."

"But Molly told my mom she wasn't allowed out a lot..."

Myra laughed and shook her head. "Molly is right, but when she has been allowed out, she hasn't wanted to go."

Confused, Oliver had to ask. "Why wouldn't she want to go?" He thought a girl with Molly's energy would grab any chance she had to go out for a few hours.

The woman's smile faded somewhat. "She gets frightened, Mr. Queen."

"It's Ollie and why does she get frightened?" The four year old who loved her Freddy and Jason movies got frightened? Didn't sound right to him.

Myra squeezed his hand and said what no parent would ever want to hear. "She doesn't want to get sick, Mr. Queen. It's horrible, yes, but the outcome would be much worse if certain rules weren't obeyed. Molly has taken these rules to heart and has often denied herself because she's a little bit frightened."

Oliver decided he'd rather have several kicks to his nuts than hear that.

Instead of saying anything, he simply nodded like he understood, which he didn't and never could. Sure he'd had colds and once he'd had flu, but he'd never truly been sick like his daughter was. He couldn't imagine how scary it must be for her to think of outside as a thing that might make her bad.

On the other hand, if he could show Molly that she wouldn't get bad if she came to his, it would help, right?

Right.

Molly Queen may play on her mom's heart strings by using her leukemia as an excuse, but he wasn't Chloe.

"Why don't you go ask Molly and I'll talk to her doctor? I'm sure we can work something out."

Oliver met Myra's gaze head on. "Whether or not she wants too, if the doctor gives the green light, she's coming out."

The nurse arched an eyebrow and gave his hand a pat instead of a squeeze. "Good luck with that one, Mr. Queen."

"It's just Ollie, nurse Myra, and believe me," he stated quite firmly. "Molly will not pull the wool over my eyes again. You can bet your ass on that."

Oliver straightened his shoulders and smoothed down his shirt, gave Myra one good nod and walked back to his daughter's room.

Last night, she may have ran circles around him, but today?

Today, Molly Queen was going to meet her match.

 **XOXOXO**

The first thing he saw when he walked in was one itty bitty little girly soldier sporting a badass expression and ready for war and God, she looked cuter than hell as she posed with the Stars and Stripes.

Lois was snapping away with her camera from various angles while calling out various phrases. "C'mon, sergeant. Meaner, I want meaner."

Oliver arched a brow when Molly scowled for all she was worth and he slipped his cell out of his pocket. One photo app loaded and a snap later, he had one sweet background for his phone.

"Now let's get some for uncle General, okay?"

His other brow arched when Molly lost the scowl, stood straight with her face devoid of emotion. One teeny hand raised to salute while the other balanced the flag on her shoulder.

Oliver clicked his phone and got another background.

"There's my soldier," Lois sighed happily as she continued to snap like her life depended on it. "Now a big smile for the boys at the base."

Molly broke out into a large smile that flashed all her baby teeth and waved for the camera.

Well, hell.

He just had to get another one for himself. "What about some for mommy, huh?"

Lois looked at him approvingly. "Yeah, let's get some for mom. Make em good ones, soldier."

"I know, I know," Molly yelled and pulled the beret off her head and moved to the laptop round to face her.

Both adults glanced at each other, equal expressions of amused confusion as they wondered what the girl was up to.

Lois and Oliver looked back at Molly only to find her mimicking Chloe by tapping on the keyboard with what was supposed concentration on her baby face and the impression came complete with hunched shoulders. "I'm mommy!"

Silence reigned until both adults once again glanced to each other and it was Lois who cracked first, but Oliver wasn't far behind.

Oh, this was rich, he thought as he took photo after photo of his daughter acting like Chloe.

Lois cackling finally faded and she held up her digital. "We got some pretty damn good ones this time, kid. Uncle General and the boys are gonna love em."

Molly beamed. "Uncle General and the boys always love them."

"That's cos they love you," Lois put her camera into her bag. "You have any letters for the boys?"

"Uh-huh," Molly replied. "I drawed some pictures, too."

Oliver suck in a breath as pride welled up inside and he didn't have the heart to correct her. "You write to the soldiers?"

Molly nodded. "Mommy says it's a good thing to do cos it makes them feel better about being away from home and their families."

Knowing Chloe as he did, he figured it was also to help Molly learn to read and write while at the same time, giving her contact with the outside world.

"That's a very good thing you're doing, Fishcake," Oliver told her. "Do you get lots back?"

She nodded. "Especially when they get employed."

"Deployed," Lois corrected, then paused. "Damn you, Chloe."

Oliver chuckled at her annoyance and was about to put his phone away when, "Hey, what about some for me?"

Molly looked to her aunt. "Can we take some for Ollie... Please?"

Lois glanced between the two and pursed her lips as she thought about how her cousin handled two sets of big brown eyes pleading for something.

She made a mental note to buy Chloe some willpower for Christmas cos God, it was gonna be sorely needed.

She went to fish out her camera, but Oliver stopped her and handed over his phone. "You just press that button there," and he was pulling Molly onto his knee before she could blink.

Lois kept her smile inward as she watched the man put the beret back on her niece's head and kissed a cheek.

Yep, she decided, Chloe was gonna need a lot of willpower.

 **XOXOXO**

Chloe massaged her temple with her left hand as she stared down at the mail on the table and thanked the heavens direct debit was invented. Unfortunately, direct debits only worked for bills and not for anything else, like census forms and the like.

It didn't help when one had a pair of clog dancers performing the Paso Doble on one's brain.

Next time Ollie offered to give her night off, her answer was going to be a resounding no that came complete with the word way.

The man was a damn menace.

Take this business venture for example and yes, he was right in what he about her place being perfect for a first time buyer. It was the very reason why she'd bought it in the first place, but what had been perfect for Molly and her then would be a nightmare now.

She had to hand it to Oliver Queen. It had taken him less than twenty seconds to see how much of a nightmare this place would be.

Chloe smirked.

It had also taken him less than twenty seconds to see the potential in her house and he'd gotten right on in there. Sure she could understand him wanting to branch out with his own thing, but really. Her half of the house for her part of the capital?

She had a feeling Ollie was saying that because he knew most of the money she earned from book sales went into medical bills and he was letting her off lightly. Yet at the same time, she had a feeling he had a few aces up his sleeve that would balance the whole thing out. Probably more given his smarts.

Whatever Ollie had planned for this house was definitely something she wanted to be a part of and not because of the payoff, but because it was a damn good house. Her first home, her daughter's first home, and there was a lot of love in here that couldn't go to waste by being sold to another who would let it go to wreck and ruin.

She trusted Ollie to make the best decisions with regards to the house itself, but she didn't trust him to keep it for people like herself.

Oliver Queen was a good man with a good heart, but he was a business man and business men thought of profit, profit, profit. Yeah, she was also thinking of profits from her house, yet she cared about where the profit came from.

She wanted to see another family move in here. A family with a young child who could use their room as it was meant to be used. Toys thrown every which way and footsteps heard when the child was supposed to be in bed.

Chloe knew Ollie would listen to her on this and after he'd seen Molly's room being the way she left it, he would understand and what was that infernal noise outside?

"Some boy racer messing around in daddy's car probably," she grumbled to herself as she grabbed the mail and headed outside for the box. Not that she wanted to go outside when that dumbass was there, because the closer she got to her front door the louder the noise became.

The second she opened the door was the second those damn dancers started the Two Step. "Knock it off, you dickwad," Chloe yelled and quickly shut up when she saw his shiny silver Mercedes parked right outside her house.

Okay, number one.

She wouldn't have swore if she'd seen her daughter waving from the back seat and number two, she wouldn't have called the boy racer a dickwad if she'd known it was Ollie.

Chloe shook number two away.

If she'd known it was Ollie, she'd have called him a dickwad to his damn face.

She wanted to glare at him, really she did, but the two smiling faces looking at her made it impossible.

Oliver gestured for her to go over and she did, her head going from side to side as she approached the car.

Oliver switched the engine off and rolled down the window a little. "Hurry up, we're waiting," he hollered.

Waiting? "Waiting for what?"

"Just get a move on, woman!"

"Hurry, mommy, hurry!" Came her daughter's excited voice. "Laura has everything ready and Bobby's coming home just to see us!"

"What?"

Chloe's question was drowned out when Oliver rolled the window back up, turned the engine back on and revved. She tried again to ask, but the menace revved not once this time, but kept it up until she held up her hands in surrender.

Damn, the man was worse than a dog with a bone.

She held up five fingers to let them know how long it would take to get herself ready and her answer was another rev.

Oliver Queen was going to get his one day, she vowed as she hurried back to the house. She'd make damn sure of it.

 **XOXOXO**

Laura only left the kitchen after she was absolutely certain there were a good variety of sandwiches. Unlike adults, children didn't want things like king prawn chicken for a starter or anything of the sort. Children wanted things that were simple and things that tasted good.

Molly, she knew, liked cheese and ham sandwiches and other simple sandwich fillings, but since she didn't know Chloe's preferences, she had a variety made. She also asked the kitchen for a few other bits and pieces.

Since her granddaughter didn't get out much, she thought an indoor picnic was a lovely idea. Especially as she was planning to have it in the conservatory that overlooked the trees.

She hurried up the stairs and mentally ran over the list of canapes just in case there was something she missed.

Szechuan pepper chicken with a tomato chilli jam dip.

Mini salmon and hollandaise tarts.

Rosemary and olive drop scones with goat's cheese.

Teriyaki and beef lettuce cups.

Prawn spring roll wraps.

Mini crab cakes with lime and chilli mayonaise.

Poppadoms with seared duck and tomato chutney.

Pies? Baking.

Chocolate and vanilla cupcakes? Ready to be eaten.

Robert? Remained to be seen.

Laura wished she could say she was surprised at her husband playing sick and rushing home from work, but she wasn't. All he had talked about last night was how the mother of his grandchild was Esther Allred and how he was going to make a good impression on the woman.

According to her husband, if he made a good enough impression, then Chloe might use their house as a setting for one of her novels.

For the sake of everyone in this house, Laura dearly hoped not and as she entered the bedroom, her hopes for a sane husband went flying out the window.

Robert stood in front of the full length mirror as he turned this way and that. "Is the food ready? The pies?"

"Yes, yes. I also have some meals for Chloe to take back to the hospital."

"Good, good," he replied and turned to his wife. "How do I look?"

She gave her husband the once over and tried not to wince at her husband's effort. It was lovely that he was making an effort, but there was a limit and yet she didn't have the heart to tell him that.

Except it would be much crueler to have him greet their guests wearing that. "You look like you're ready for work," she said honestly. "Why not use your blue tie?"

"But I'm wearing my grey suit," Robert pointed out. Every man knew bright blue didn't go with charcoal grey. "What about my yellow tie?"

She stepped back a little and then shook her head. "What about your olive green one? It's not too bright or too dark."

He pulled his olive green tie off the hanger and held it up to his neck. "I look stuffy," he complained. "Molly is my granddaughter and I don't want her thinking I'm a stuffy old man."

Laura nodded. "I don't want her to see me as an old woman, either. You take off the suit and wear your Sunday best while I put on that outfit you bought for my birthday?"

Robert arched his eyebrows. "You do realise Chloe is Esther Allred?" It was more of a statement. "I refuse to be seen in my country club clothes. It's well known Esther Allred frowns on those places."

Laura paused again and thought that if her husband wanted to make himself look like an unemployed accountant, then so be it. "Yes, you're right. You need to make a good impression on her. Put on your navy suit and set off the dark blue with your yellow tie. It'll make a lovely contrast."

"I wear my navy suit, I look I'm back at school," he complained. "What if Molly thinks I'm a principal?"

She didn't have time to even think of a reply when her husband spoke again. "I want my granddaughter and Chloe to look at me and think yes, that's my grampa and my daughter's grandfather. I want to make a good impression, Snoop."

Come to think of it, "Has she ever seen a principal?"

Both grandparents stopped worrying over how they were going to look and realised that their granddaughter had never been to a school outside of the one run by the hospital.

Molly Sullivan had spent her first few years of life in a hospital, having drugs that made her lose her hair and sick and tired, yet here they were. Worrying about what the hell they would wear when Molly and Chloe came for lunch.

Laura caught Robert's gaze in the mirror and one expression equalled the other and neither spoke for a few minutes.

"What are we doing, Bob?"

He looked at himself in the full length mirror. "I don't know," he sighed. "I honestly don't know."

Laura approached her husband watched in the mirror as her arms wrapped around his chest and her chin landed on his left shoulder. "We haven't been in this situation before," she said. "But I don't think either Chloe or our granddaughter would want us being anything other than ourselves. You wear what you feel comfortable in, as will I."

"But it's Esther..." Robert pointed out.

"Esther or Theresa or Betty, she's the mother of your grandchild, Bobby," she stated firmly. "She doesn't need you parading yourself today. She needs us to be Bob and Laura and not Bobby Queen, big fan. Am I understood?"

"What if Chloe asks if I've read any of her books?"

Laura found herself quite happily wishing her son was taking both their granddaughter and Chloe elsewhere. "If and only if she asks are you allowed to be show her."

Slightly glum at his orders, Robert nodded and focused on something much more important. "Have the cleaners left the conservatory?"

"They have and I got the windows disinfected while they were at the job."

He nodded again. "That's one less job for Ollie."

Laura saw her smile matched to that of her husband's. "He is good at window cleaning, isn't he?"

Robert chuckled as he covered his wife's hand with his own. "Do you ever think we were too lenient with our son?"

"Sometimes yes," she admitted after a moment. "He was the only child we could have, so we doted on him," and then. "Oliver is growing up, isn't he?"

"Finally," he sighed and exchanged a smile with his wife.

Laura chuckled. "Think he'll ever move out?"

Robert thought of what their home held by way of entertainment value. "Not before we do."

Her smiled turned sly. "Then it's good thing I bought us a retirement villa in the Maldives."

His face lit up at the possibilities of spending his golden years in the Maldives. "That brain of yours is the very reason why I married you."

Laura chuckled and pressed a kiss to her husband's cheek. "Now put on something that doesn't scream lawyer while I go welcome our VIP's."

Maybe he could wear the Christmas sweater his secretary gave him last year...

 **XOXOXO**

Oliver was struggling to keep from laughing at the look on his daughter's face as she stared up at his house. It was somewhere between awe, fear, and complete shock. Not that Chloe was any better, because she wasn't.

He remembered the last time Chloe was here and cringed.

She'd been more concerned with more important things than the architecture and grounds, but now that he knew her, he was hundred percent sure she'd been impressed. Hell, he was impressed and he lived here.

There was truly no doubting the fact his mom had outdone herself when it came to Queen estate.

Oliver looked up at the house and wondered how long it had been since he'd stopped to smell the roses of his own home. It made him feel quite ashamed that he'd taken this beautiful home for granted and not once told his mom how good she'd made it.

"Nice, isn't it?" He asked as he glanced at Chloe.

"Seen better," she sniffed and stuck her nose up before grinning. "Amazing is more the word. It's like that beach house your friends live in. The symmetry is fantastic, but the floor to ceiling windows? Health hazard."

"Bart knows that only too well," he told her and cringed at the memory.

Chloe thought of the boisterous man. "I won't ask if you won't tell."

"Deal," Oliver agreed. "Definitely a deal."

Unfortunately for them, "Did something bad happen to your friend?" Molly asked after finally tearing her eyes away from the huge house. "Or are you just fibbing again?"

Oliver chose not to answer the questioning look on Chloe's face. "Bart did have an accident," and then mumbled. "A ten thousand dollar accident."

Chloe was sure her heart almost stopped. "Ten thousand dollars?"

Molly blinked up at her mom. "Is that lots?"

"Yes, sweetie," Chloe replied as she continued to gape at Oliver. Though there was a part of her that was dying to know what Bart Allen had done, but it was obviously traumatic for Ollie to even think about it. "Especially for a window."

"Was it a big window? Like bigger then those windows?" She pointed to the house.

Oliver knelt down to her level and tugged on her beret so it was once again askew on her head. "It goes from the floor to the roof," he dramatised with exaggerated hand movements. "On your next day out, I'll take you and mom to see it."

Molly frowned. "I thought we were gonna go to the aquaroom?"

"We can go there if you want, Fishcake," he said as he picked her up and balanced her carefully on his hip. "Tell you what. Why don't you write down a list of places to go on your days and we'll go to them all?"

Molly looked at her mom. "Mommy?"

Chloe tried to have willpower and excercise some form of discipline, but it was no good. Those brown eyes were an evil thing to face. "Fine, fine," she threw up her hands. "If and only if Ollie doesn't have any plans or has no business to attend."

Oliver gave her a soft smile when she took his schedule into consideration. "I think we can work it out."

Chloe rolled her eyes when her daughter clapped her hands in delight. One day, she thought as she followed Ollie towards the house, one day he would learn the meaning of boundaries. Although, after her conversation with Denise earlier, she wouldn't hold her breath.

When they got to the door and he asked her to get his keys out, she remembered, "Sweetheart, if you ask nicely, Ollie might let you ring the doorbell."

This time it was Oliver who rolled his eyes.

That damn doorbell would be the death of him.

"Do we have too?" He asked, voice full of pain.

"Can I, Ollie? Please?" Molly turned hope filled brown eyes to him. "I'll only ring it once. Promise."

Oliver glared at Chloe, who felt slightly vindicated. "Sure," he said and not once did his gaze leave the blonde minx.

He moved closer so his daughter could press the button and heard Chloe laugh merrily, so he figured his face clearly expressed his feelings on the matter.

Unfortunately, Molly was also laughing and she pressed the bell again, which made Chloe turn away. Something that didn't hide her shaking shoulders.

Oliver mentally thanked the Gods when his mom answered before his hellchild could press it again. "We're here," he sighed in relief. "Food's ready? Good. Guys, let's go..."

"No rush," Laura waved off her son's silly behaviour and beamed at the little girl he held. "Hello, sweetheart," she said in what she hoped was a welcoming tone. "Do you like the bell, Molly? I bought it because all big houses need a special bell."

Molly nodded. "I promised to press it just once, but it sounds like Draculas castle."

"Well," Laura clapped her hands once and shot her son a look. "At least someone appreciates it," she said knowingly, then smiled at her granddaughter. "Why don't you play it again? I'm sure Ollie won't mind in the slightest."

Okay, that was it, he decided.

He was gonna file for emancipation first chance he got.

While Molly pressed the doorbell for a third time, Laura reached for Chloe and held the young woman's hands in her own and noticed just how much better the young mother looked.

She liked to think her son had a part in that. "It's nice to have you here under good circumstances this time."

Chloe chuckled even as she blushed and squeezed the woman's hands right back, her memory of her last appearance all too fresh in her mind. "Yeah, I didn't exactly make the greatest of impressions, did I?"

In fact, she'd made a downright horrible impression. "I'm surprised you came after me," she confessed with more than a little embarrassment. "I wouldn't have blamed if you'd slapped a restraining order on me."

Laura didn't get a chance to say anything as Oliver grinned and interrupted them. "Bygones, remember?"

Chloe moved one hand to touch Ollie's shoulder and smiled back at him. "Bygones."

Laura's chest tightened at her son's smile. It had been so very long since she'd seen him smile like that and it did wonders for her soul. Her little man was learning how to be a big man and she couldn't wait for Bob to see this.

Her husband was going to be so very proud.

It got so much better when she watched Chloe's hand move over her son's shoulders. "Though I am putting stock in your statement of brat..."

"Hey!" Molly yelled and scowled at her mom. "I'm not a brat."

Oliver chuckled and pressed a kiss to her little cheek, and delighted in her little girl giggle. "You are such a brat. Who started the cake fight last night, huh?"

It wasn't until he noticed his mother and Chloe looking at him did he realise he'd just effectively shoved both feet firmly in his mouth.

Things only got worse when his daughter scowled at him. "You snitched on me," Molly pouted. "You promised."

 _CRAP_.

 **XOXOXO**

Robert and Laura exchanged glances full of worry.

Since showing Chloe and Molly into the conservatory, silence had descended and didn't seem to be letting up any time soon.

Credit was given to their son as Oliver had tried his hardest to keep the conversation running, but he failed at each and every turn when Chloe appeared to be more focused on Molly not dropping anything.

Molly had been quiet herself, which wasn't her at all, Laura knew and she began to take notes every five minutes. Did she look too warm? Too cold? Was she tired? Didn't she like the food?

Nothing would escape Laura Queen's notice.

It was entirely understandable if the little girl was bored.

There wasn't much for her to play with in a house that had no toys or games, which was something that would be rectified at the first available opportunity.

"Be careful not to spill anything," Chloe held her hand under Molly's glass of juice and the little girl nodded and continued to hold her glass with two hands.

Laura began to smile at the maternal instinct of the young woman, but her smile quickly faded at the next thing spoken.

"Oh, look at you," Chloe made sure her daughter had a good hold of her glass before she brushed crumbs into her hands, then looked to Ollie's mom. "Do you have a bin close?"

"Just brush them onto the floor," Oliver told her. "I'll vaccum it up later."

"I can't do that," Chloe replied and tried to subtly glance around the room she didn't want to get messy.

Robert caught her expression and felt himself redden in an embarrassment shared by his wife. "Chloe, it's fine. A few crumbs are neither here nor there."

"Yes," Laura was quick to add. "When Oliver was Molly's age, he made quite the mess."

Chloe took in a deep breath. "Ollie lives here," she said in a way that asked them not to take offense. "It's his home and he can do what he wants here, but Molly and I are guests."

"And I don't wanna spoil the pretty room," Molly said quietly. "I shake sometimes and I might drop my juice. It's not good manners to make a mess in someone else's house. Mommy says so."

Every member of the Queen family had the same thought.

Molly and Chloe weren't guests at all.

They were family and family shouldn't worry about things like a bit of spilt juice or some pastry crumbs. Though no Queen liked the fact that neither Molly or Chloe felt welcome enough to relax, it was understandable and humbling.

It was all too easy to take their home for granted and often forgot that to others, their home was more of a place not to be ruined. As beautiful as the estate was, it could be quite the curse at times.

Laura exchanged a look with both her husband and son, and it was clear something needed to be done before the afternoon got more awkward.

Robert resembled a deer caught in the headlights and Oliver...

Well, Oliver couldn't really be brought into it without his relationship to Molly being revealed and so that left Laura to deal with the matter.

"So," she began with a smile that was identical to that of her husband and son. "Did you enjoy your night at home with your cousin? Lois, I think was said."

Chloe didn't reply until she carefully placed her daughter's glass off juice on the table, then mockingly glared at Oliver for a moment before returning Laura's smile. "I did, yes. It's not often I get to see her since her business picked up, but it was welcomed."

"Did you have any wine?" Molly asked.

"I did and do you know what? Mommy's not going to have any more wine."

Laura and Robert chuckled as the glare towards their son intensified.

"I'm serious," Chloe insisted, her lips twitching even as she tried to keep a straight face. "No more wine for Chloe."

"Uh-huh," Oliver grinned and nudged her with his shoulder, pleased she seemed to be relaxing in his home. "Not until the next time."

Chloe shook her head, adamant that, "There won't be a next time."

Molly giggled behind her hand. "Mommy and aunt Lois always say that. No more and then they do and they get funny heads and funny eyes. They go red and everything."

Chloe didn't know which laughing adult to glare at first. Ollie, Laura, or Robert. "Yeah, yeah," she grumbled. "Laugh it up. Bet you've all been in the same boat at one time or another," and looked pointedly at Oliver, who shrugged and grinned shamelessly.

God, he was such a... a...

The only word she could come up with was Ollie and decided that was exactly what he was.

An Ollie.

"I haven't," Molly pipped up. "I haven't had any wine and funny eyes... I'd like the red eyes cos David would be jealous cos I'd be cooler than he is."

"David is your friend, yes?" Robert asked and felt able to relax a little as the atmosphere began to get less awkward.

Molly nodded. "He lets me borrow his movies sometimes and we watched all three Terminator movies last night, right Ollie?"

Oliver refused to look at Chloe simply for the fact he knew what he would get. Unfortunately for him, he also had parents and parents that were staring at him in shock.

"But Ollie got scared and wanted to turn off the TV, but we didn't let him be a chicken."

"Oliver Jonas," his dad went first. "You kept a young child up for all hours?"

"Oliver," his mom was next. "I'm surprised at you."

"I tried to turn it off halfway through the second movie," he defended when his parents continued stared at him with two different expressions. "It was like stopping an eighteen wheeler from crushing a Yaris!"

"Or like stopping a cake fight?" Chloe asked, her lips curled into a knowing smile.

"That was my fault, mommy," Molly raised her voice. "David called me Molldemort again and he knows I think Harry Potter is stupid, but he kept calling me Molldemort and it wasn't Ollie's fault. Promise."

"Yes," Chloe gave her daughter a look Oliver knew all too well. "And we will talk about your temper later."

Ashamed, Molly lowered her gaze to the floor and that was another look Ollie knew all too well and he was gonna be damned if he let it go this time. "You are going to properly apologise to David when you get back to the hospital," he told, not asked. "And mommy and I are going to watch you do it."

"But I already said sorry," Molly protested, her gaze suddenly up from the floor and going between Ollie and her mom.

"Ollie's right," Chloe gave their daughter yet another look Oliver knew all too well. "You're going to apologise, properly I might add, to both David and his mom and the cleaners."

"But he called me..."

"I don't care if he called you Molldemort, Boldemort, or Zodemort," she raised a finger and Molly immediately fell quiet. "You will apologise and you will mean it and you," she turned to Oliver. "What did I tell you about being a walkover?"

Ashamed, he lowered his gaze to the floor. "To not be one, but I tried, Chloe," and he raised his gaze to meet hers. "They both just wanted to watch Terminator."

"Um-hm and were you entirely opposed to the idea?" Chloe asked, hardly able to keep the smile off her face.

Oliver again lowered his eyes. "Terminator is a good trilogy... Or it was before they made Salvation."

Chloe made a point of ignoring his last statement. "And what are you not going to be again?"

Oliver sighed in defeat. "A walkover."

Chloe nodded, satisfied with both children. "Good or I may have to get uncle General to come babysit the pair of you."

"No!" Molly yelled and looked to Robert and Laura for help. "Uncle General is mean and he makes lights out at seven."

Having had thirty years experience of dealing with a child, Robert and Laura Queen knew how to keep a straight face.

Curious, Oliver glanced at Chloe. "So this uncle General isn't just called General for a nickname? He really is a general?"

Even though Chloe opened her mouth, it was his daughter who answered. "Um-hmm and he's the best general in the world, Ollie. His name is Sam Lane and he's aunt Lois daddy and he's very mean. Meaner than Freddy."

"The best general, huh?" Oliver asked and grinned at Molly's loyalty. "He must be a very good general."

The little girl nodded. "He is cos he tells everyone what to do and they do it and he even speaks to the president sometimes and I spoke to the president once, too."

Laura, Robert, and Oliver all turned their attention to Chloe, who nodded in confirmation.

"She did and what was he doing when you spoke to him?"

"Flying over the Grand Canyon," Molly said. "In a helipockter and it was so loud I had to shout just so he could hear me and I told him when I get better, I'm going over the Grand Canyon in a helipockter."

Laura and Robert smiled at each other as they remembered their own trip over the Canyon in the Queen private helicopter.

"You will love it, princess," Robert turned his attention back to his granddaughter. "You can see all the caves and everything."

"You've seen it?" Molly gasped. "You've been to the Grand Canyon? Do you have pictures? Can I see them?"

Chloe coughed loudly and the little girl huffed. "Can I see them, please, Bobby? I've never been to the Canyon yet. I won't spill anything on them, promise."

Robert was only too happy to indulge his grandchild. "Of course you can. Shall I bring you some pictures of other places for you?"

"You've been to more than the Canyon?" Molly asked, then looked at Oliver suspiciously. "You said you spend your money on cake."

Oliver yet again found himself the centre of attention and he scratched the back of his neck as he tried to come up with a plausible way to get himself out of the grave he was slowly digging himself. "No, honey," he said. "I spend my money on cake. My parents spend their money on vacations."

Laura and Robert glared at their son when Molly looked at them. "You don't like cake?"

"Of course we like cake," Laura replied and visibly gave up on her son. Oliver Jonas was her husband's doing. "Would you like some now, Molly? There's chocolate and fudge cake in the kitchen."

The little girl looked at her mother for permission. "Can I please have some cake, mommy?"

Chloe would never deny her daughter cake, especially since high calorie food was what helped keep weight on her. "Of course you can have some cake, sweetheart. Now say thank you to Laura and Bobby."

And it was then that the Queen family realised what they had done wrong.

They had laid on a buffet more suited to an adult and a not a young child. Yes, the canapes were delicious, but they weren't exactly the best things to serve to a child whose medication left her with a dry mouth.

A four year old wanted things that four year olds found good, like cheeseburgers or corndogs or fries, not Szechuan chicken or Teriyaki beef.

It had just been so long since Oliver had been a child that the fact had been forgotten in favour of wanting to make Chloe and Molly welcome.

Oliver covered his parents embarrassment. "I'm sure my mom won't mind getting you some cake, right mom?"

Grateful for her son's intervention, "No," Laura said with a smile. "Of course I wouldn't and the pies will be ready by now."

Chloe fought to keep from smiling as she realised what Ollie's parents had done for them. "Thank you," she said to both. "It is a lovely buffet."

"Oh," Laura graciously accepted the young woman's manners. "No thanks is necessary. Bobby, you go get some photos and I'll be back with cake and pie."

Oliver waited until his folks had left the room before grinning widely at the blonde. "You totally hate it."

Chloe felt her face heat up and averted her gaze. "No I don't."

Molly giggled. "Some of it smells bad, like the green and white stuff in the little bowl."

"I don't mind some of it," Oliver confessed, his grin never faltering. "But my mom can come up with the most disgusting combinations."

Chloe thought about fibbing some more, but decided against it. "So I see," she murmured and picked up a piece of chicken, examining it. "Dare I ask?"

He didn't have to lean closer to smell the spicy aroma. "I'd say not."

She chuckled and grimaced. "Here goes nothing," and popped the piece of chicken into her mouth.

Molly giggled as she watched her mom spit the chicken into a napkin and coughed. "Do you want some juice, mommy? Ollie has some here."

Chloe wiped her watering eyes and tried to ignore the hot, biting aftertaste of hell knows what kind of coating. She all but snatched the glass out of Ollie's hand. "Thanks," and downed it in one.

Oliver waited patiently until she put herself right again. "You okay?"

"Let's just say I'm glad I live in a hospital," she responded dryly. "Yes, I'm fine, just remind me not to eat that ever again."

"Deal," he grinned. "I'll call in a pizza for us."

"Can it be with lots of cheese?" Molly asked, eyes filled with the excitement only pizza could bring.

Oliver ran his hand over her head. "You can have anything you want, Fishcake."

She stared at him for a moment. "You're a very kind man, Ollie. You could be my daddy."


End file.
